Skip to main content

Full text of "The life and letters of Washington Irving"

See other formats 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS 

OF 

WASHIJ^GTOlSr    IKYING. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

ih'.2Q10"  with  funding  from 

The  Institute  of  Museum  and  Library  Services  through  an  Indiana  State  Library  LSTA  Grant 


http://www.archive.org/details/lifelettersofwasOOinirvi 


/<y 


sd  ^i  //*-  t/^  /S    -        /</  I  -1  ' 


THE 


LIFE    AND    LETTEKS 


WASHINGTON    IRVING. 


BY   HIS  NEPHEW 


PIERRE    M.    IRVING. 


VOLUME  IV. 


NEW    YORK  : 
G.     P.     PUTNAM,    441     BROADWAY, 

1864. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1863,  by 

PIERRE  M.  IRVING, 

In  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


JOHN   F.  TBOTT,  ,^  q  J^Q 

Printer  and  Stereotype*,   y^  /  /     / \J    f 


50  Greene  Street. 


*ft\ 


The  copious  Index  to  these  volumes  has  been 
kindly  prepared,  as  a  labor  of  love,  by  S.  Austin 
Allibone,  LL.  D.,  of  Philadelphia.  The  value  of  this 
service  will  be  readily  appreciated  by  many  readers. 
It  has  been  tendered  in  the  midst  of  laborious  appli- 
cation on  his  own  great  work,  the  "  Dictionary  of 
Authors."  The  article  in  the  first  volume  of  that 
work  on  the  Life  and  Works  of  Irving,  was  remark- 
able for  its  comprehensive  collection  of  facts  and 
opinions. 

Among  the  many  letters  of  Mr.  Irving  to  authors, 
which  the  editor  has  been  unable  to  quote  in  the  limits 
of  these  volumes,  is  one  to  Dr.  Allibone,  expressing  a 
warm  appreciation  of  the  important  contribution  to 
literary  history  which  Dr.  Allibone  is  now  engaged  in 
completing. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 


A  literary  freak— Tho  old  Moorish  chronicles— Delight  in  the  old  Morlsco 
Spanish  subjects— The  saddle  horse — First  trial — Disappointment— A  favorable 
change— Finale  of  the  injured  animal — Completion  of  his  improvements — Removal 
into  the  new  tower— Has  got  his  place  in  complete  order — New  York  as  it  was  and 
is — His  last  job — Hard  at  work  on  the  Life  of  Washington— Letters  to  a  child — 
Letter  to  Charles  Luiman— Letter  to  Miss  Catherine  Irving,  ...        .13 

CHAPTER  II. 

Dinner  at  John  Jacob  Astor'a— Conversation  about  ghosts— Engaged  on  his 
Life  of  Washington— Annoyed  at  the  want  of  feature  in  parts  of  tho  war — The 
opera  house  one  of  the  great  charms  of  New  York— The  projected  railroad  along 
the  banks  of  the  Hudson — Impending  desecration  of  Sunnyside — Testimonial  of 
the  Land  Committee— Adjustment  of  damages— Letter  to  Hackett— Arrangement 
with  Mr.  Putnam  for  the  republication  of  his  works—  Knickerbocker—  Author'a 
remarks  about  the  revised  edition — Notice  of  Henry  T.  Tuckerman — A  German 
eomtnentator  citing  Knickerbocker— Schaefer's  Christus  Consolator— Notice*  of 
the  republication  of  the  Sketch  Book — Liberal  reception  of  the  revised  series,      33 

CHAPTER  III. 

Unprecedented  sale  of  revised  edition  of  the  Sketch  Book — Engaged  upon  a 
Life  of  Goldsmith — Its  publication — Ripley's  notice— Critique  of  Goorge  W. 
Greene— Appearance  of  Mahomet  and  hie  Successors— The  revised  Alhambra  and 
Conquest  of  Granada— Anxiety  to  begin  anew  on  Life  of  Washington,         .        50 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Letters  to  Gouverneur  Kemble— Durand's  Picture— The  horrors  of  the  steam 
whistle— Letter  to  George  Ticknor— The  Embozado— Letter  to  Mrs.  Storrow— 


g  CONTENTS. 

Death  of  President  Taylor— Visit  to  James  K.  Paulding— Jenny  land— Letter  to 
Miss  Hamilton— The  Author's  hegira,         ........        66 

CHAPTER  V. 

Application  for  an  original  thought— Boring  letters— Letter  to  Jesse  Merwin, 
the  original  of  Ichahod  Crane— His  last  portrait— Letter  to  Mr*.  Storrow— The 
Reveries  of  a  Bachelor— The  Scarlet  Letter— Letter  to  M.  H.  Grinnell—  Bohn'a 
infringement  of  copyright— Letter  to  Bentley— Letter  of  John  Murray— Letter  to 
John  Barney— Letter  to  H.  T.  Tuckcrman,  alluding  to  Rogers  and  to  article  in 
Homes  of  American  Authors— Letter  to  Wm.  C.  Bryant  on  the  subject  of  the  dif- 
ferent portraits  of  Columbus W 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Letter  to  Mrs.  Storrow— Coup  d'etat  of  Louis  Napoleon— Kossuth— Letter  to 
Gouvcrneur  Kemblc— The  Cooper  commemoration— Bryant's  allusion  to  the  cool- 
ness between  Cooper  and  Irving— "What  the  latter  said  about  it— A  prospectus  for 
a  course  of  lectures  sent  to  him— Letter  thereupon— Letters  from  Saratoga— Anec- 
dotes of  Charles  Augustus  Davis— The  Irving  Literary  Union— A  breakfast  -with 
Sontag— Letter  to  Miss  Hamilton— Letter  to  George  P  ^utnam,     ...       99 

CHAPTER  VII. 

At  New  Terk,  on  his  way  to  Baltimore— Letter  from  Baltimore— Meets  Thack- 
eray in  the  cars— Hospitable  reception  at  Baltimore— -Departure  for  "Washington- 
Letters  from  "Washington — At  work  among  the  archives  of  the  State  Department 
— A  miniature  anchor  presented  to  him — Its  history— Table  tipping— Reminis- 
cences of  the  family  of  the  Empress  of  France— Letter  to  Mrs.  Kennedy,  after  his 
return  to  Sunnyside, 122 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Letter  to  Mrs.  Storrow — Louis  Napoleon  and  Eugenie  Montijo — His  seventieth 
birthday— Letter  to  Hon.  Robert  C.  Winthrop— Wilkic's  sketch—Letter  to  Mr. 
Gray— To  Mrs.  Kennedy — Second  letter  to  Mr.  Winthrop— Letter  to  Miss  Mary 
E.  Kennedy — Leaves  Sunnyside  on  an  excursion— Letters  during  his  absence — 
Letter  on  his  return, ,       .....       -        .        138 

CHAPTER  IX, 

Excursion  to  the  Springs— Niagara,  etc.— Extract  of  letter  to  Miss  Mary  E. 
Kennedy— Ogdensburgh  revisited— Letter  to  John  P.  Kennedy— Extract  of  letter 
to  Mrs.  Storrow— His  final  resting-place  marked  out — Sets  off  on  an  exoursion— 


CONTENTS.  9 

Letter  to  Miss  Sarah  Irving— The  Irving  House— Travelling  on  his  capital— The 
Bt.  Nicholas  hotel— Extract  from  letter  to  Hiss  Catherine  Irving— Expedition  to 
"Winchester  and  Greenway  Court— Return  to  Sunnyside— Letter  to  Mrs.  Ken- 
nedy,        1M 

CHAPTER  X. 

Extract  from  letter  to  Mrs.  Kennedy— No  desire  to  travel  with  political  noto- 
rities— Extract  from  letter  to  Mrs.  Sanders  Irving— His  old  dancing-school  days— 
A  breakfast  at  John  Duer's— The  name  of  Dearman  changed  to  Irvington— Con- 
tributions to  the  Knickerbocker  Gallery— To  Mrs.  Kirkland— Letter  to  John  P. 
Kennedy — Visit  to  Idlewild — The  Homo  Journal's  account  of  conversation  about 
Moore— Letters  to  John  P.  Kennedy— Letter  to  Mrs.  Storrow— European  Remi- 
niscences,        169 

CHAPTER  XL 

A  New  Year  salutation— Publication  of  Wolfert's  Roost— Extracts  from  some 
of  the  notices — Anecdoto  respecting  Mountjoy— Publication  of  Vol.  I  of  the  Life  of 
Washington— An  equestrian  overthrow— Letter  to  John  P.  Kennedv— Letter  from 
Bancroft  on  receipt  of  Vol.  I  of  Life  of  Washington— Determines  to  complete 
the  work— Passage  from  letter  to  Mrs.  Storrow — Impatient  to  get  Vol.  II  ready 
for  the  press— Reply  to  invitation  from  Moses  Thomas — Letter  to  James  K. 
Paulding, 185 

CHAPTER  Xn. 

Publication  of  Vol.  II  of  Life  of  Washington— Letter  from  Prescott— Letter  to 
Henry  T.  Tuckerman— Letter  of  Charles  L.  Brace  on  Vol.  II— Letter  to  Bancroft 
—Letter  to  John  P.  Kennedy— Letter  to  Gouverneur  Kemble— Publication  of 
Vol.  Ill, 203 

CHAPTER  Xni. 

A  recurrence  to  the  Dresden  episode— Interpolation  of  the  English  edition  of 
the  third  volume  of  the  Life  and  Letters— Letter  from  Mrs.  Emily  Fuller  to 
Washington  Irving— Reply— Letter  from  Dickens— Letter  to  Mrs.  Storrow,       213 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Letters  to  Charles  Lanman— Fourth  volume  of  Life  of  Washington  going 
through  the  press— Letter  to  Henry  T.  Tuckerman— Publication  of  Vol.  IV— Let- 
ter from  George  Bancroft— Reply— Letter  to  Frederick  S.  Cozzens— Letter  from 

Vol.  IV.— 1* 


10  CONTENTS. 

William  H.  Prescott— Letter  from  J.  Lothrop  Motley— Letter  from  S.  Auf./n 
Allibone,  and  reply, .225 

CHAPTER  XV. 

A  literary  harvest— Engaged  on  his  fifth  volume— Letter  to  Mrs.  Storrow— The 
crisis  of  1857— Conversations— Kemble— Cooke— Cooper— Darley  and  Diedrich 
Knickerbocker— "Washington  Allston— Letter  to  Bancroft — Letter  to  Professor 
Lieber— Letter  to  Miss  J.  I.  Grinnell— The  Atlantic  Cable— Indisposition— Letter 
to  a  juvenile  correspondent, .  237 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

Continuing  indisposition— Sir  Walter  Scott— Bull  fights— Dread  of  the  night- 
Spasmodic  affection— Letter  from  Prescott— Vol.  Vof  Life  of  Washington  going 
to  press — Wilkie — Holmes— Prescott's  death — Restless  nights— Anxiety  to  sleep— 
His  last  birthday, 260 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

Temporary  improvement— Letter  from  Bancroft  on  Vol.  V— Letter  to  John  P. 
Kennedy— Letter  from  William  C.  Preston— Reply— The  Heart  of  the  Andes- 
Medical  consultation — Cogswell's  anecdote — Relapse— Visit  of  Kemble— Discour- 
agement— Letter  to  H.  T.  Tuckerman  on  his  notice  of  Vol.  V,     .        .        .        280 

CHAPTER  XVm. 

Last  days— A  formidable  visit  threatened— The  Charleston  Mercury— A  strange 
visitor — Longfellow  and  the  acrostic— Burr— The  travel  to  Albany  in  former  days 
— Poe—  Clay— The  camp  meeting— George  Sumner— The  Irishwoman's  sixpence- 
Visit  of  N.  P.  Willis— Of  Theodore  Tilton— Last  interview  with  a  6tranger— Death 
and  funeral,     .       .       .       .       .       .       .       ...•■.       ....       294 


APPENDIX. 

(A.) 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

Washington  Irving — His  introduction  to  the  family  of  Foster,  and  its  history— 
The  letter— Second  attachment,  and  "  Emily  "—Her  Majesty  the  Queen  of  Saxony 
and  the  half  crown— Washington  Irving  and  the  Methodists  on  the  Hudson — 
Royal  visitors  and  General  Canicof— The  Poles,  Italians,  and  the  6py— Mr.  Irving 


CONTENTS.  11 

relates  anecdotes,  and  recalls  events  and  feelings  of  his  early  life — English  eccen- 
tricities and  Irving's  anger— Cannon  balls,  and  the  hero's  leg— History  of  his  first 
love  brought  to  us  and  returned — Irving's  second  attachment — The  little  picture 
and  the  confidante — Departure— Leipzig  and  Poniatowski— The  Hartz  and  the 
Ahnfrau— Die  Ahnfrau— Washington  Irving,  his  ramble  and  his  robbers— Hano- 
ver and  Hesse  Cassel, 337 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Letters,  etc.,  of  "Washington  Irving — Journal  between  Dresden  and  Rotterdam, 
July,  1823, 378 

(B.) 
Provisions  of  the  Will 408 

(C) 
Literary  Statistics, Ha 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS 


WASHINGTON    IKYING, 


CHAPTER    I. 

A.  LITERARY  FREAK — THE  OLD  MOORISH  CHRONICLES— DELIGHT  IN  THE  OLD  MO- 
R1SCO  SPANISH  SUBJECTS — THE  SADDLE  HORSE — FIRST  TRIAL — DISAPPOINT- 
MENT— A  FAVORABLE  CHANGE — FINALE  OF  THE  INJURED  ANIMAL — COMPLE- 
TION OF  HIS  IMPROVEMENTS — REMOVAL  INTO  THE  NEW  TOWER— HAS  GOT  HIS 
PLACE  IN  COMPLETE  ORDER — NEW  YORK  AS  IT  WAS  AND  IS — HIS  LAST  JOB 
— HARD  AT  WORK  ON  THE  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON — LETTERS  TO  A  CHILD — 
IETTER  TO  CHARLES    LANMAN — LETTER  TO  MISS   CATHERINE   IRVING. 

"IV  /TK.  IRVING  had  for  some  time  had  it  in  con- 
-*-»-*-  templation  to  publish  a  revised  and  uniform 
edition  of  his  works,  to  which  he  had  been  strongly 
urged.  He  was  apt  to  be  dilatory,  however,  in  the 
execution  of  his  literary  purposes  ;  and  the  intimation 
thrown  out  to  me  in  his  late  letter,  quoted  in  the  last 
chapter,  of  the  "  rubbish  "  he  had  been  working  up  to 
pay  for  his  new  building,  had  awakened  some  concern 
lest  he  should  be  losing  sight  of  this  object.  I  replied 
to  it  therefore,  that,  though  glad  to  learn  he  had  been 


14  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1847. 

at  work  with  his  pen  in  any  way,  I  was  chiefly  anxious 
at  present  to  have  him  commence  with  the  uniform 
edition  of  his  works,  for  which  there  was  .an  expecta- 
tion and  demand.  "  You  lost  the  Conquest  of  Mex- 
ico," I  remark  in  the  letter  now  before  me,  "  by  not 
acting  upon  the  motto  of  Carjpe  diem',  and  I  am  a 
little  afraid  you  may  let  slip  the  present  opportunity 
for  a  favorable  sale  of  a  uniform  edition  of  your  works, 
by  suffering  your  pen  to  be  diverted  in  a  new  direc- 
tion. A  literary  harvest  is  before  you  from  this  source, 
on  which  you  could  reckon  with  confidence  now,  hut 
which  might  turn  to  barrenness  under  a  future  pressure 
in  the  money  market,  of  which  many  are  not  without 
misgivings  at  this  moment.     Therefore 

'  Now's  the  day  and  now's  the  hour.' " 

He  writes,  in  reply,  April  14 : 

Don't  snub  me  about  my  late  literary  freak.  I  am  not  let* 
ting  my  pen  be  diverted  in  a  new  direction.  I  am,  by  a  little 
agreeable  exertion,  turning  to  account  a  mass  of  matter  that 
has  been  lying  like  lumber  in  my  trunks  for  years.  "When  I 
was  in  Madrid,  in  1826-27,  just  after  I  had  finished  Columbus, 
I  commenced  a  series  of  Chronicles  illustrative  of  the  wari 
between  the  Spaniards  and  the  Moors ;  to  be  given  as  the  pro- 
ductions of  a  monk,  Fray  Antonio  Agapida.  The  Conquest 
of  Granada  was  the  only  one  I  finished,  though  I  roughly 
sketched  out  parts  of  some  others.  Your  uncle  Peter  was 
always  anxious  for  me  to  carry  out  my  plan,  but,  somehow  or 
other,  I  let  it  grow  cool.     The  Chronicle  of  the  Conquest  of 


^Et.  64.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  J5 

Granada  was  not  so  immediately  successful  as  I  had  antici- 
pated, though  it  has  held  its  way  better  than  many  other  of 
my  works  which  were  more  taking  at  first.     I  am  apt  to  get 
out  of  conceit  of  anything  I  do  ;  and  I  suffered  the  manuscript 
of  these  Chronicles  to  lie  in  my  trunks  like  waste  paper.     About 
four  or  five  weeks  since,  I  was  tired,  one  day,  of  muddling 
over  my  printed  works,  and  yet  wanted  occupation.     I  don't 
know  how  the  idea  of  one  of  these  Chronicles  came  into  my 
head.     It  was  the  Chronicle  of  Count  Fernan  Gonzalez,  one 
of  the  early  Counts  of  Castile.     It  makes  about  sixty  or  eighty 
pages  of  my  writing.     I  took  it  up,  was  amused  with  it,  and 
found  I  had  hit  the  right  vein  in  my  management  of  it.     I 
went  to  work  and  rewrote  it,  and  got  so  in  the  spirit  of  the 
thing,  that  I  went  to  work,  con  amore,  at  two  or  three  frag- 
mentary Chronicles,  filling  up  the  chasms,  rewriting  parts.     In 
a  word,  I  have  now  complete,  though  not  thoroughly  finished 
off,  The  Chronicle  of  Pelayo ;  The  Chronicle  of  Count  Fernan 
Gonzalez ;    the  Chronicle  of  the  Dynasty  of  the  Ommiades  in 
Spain,  giving  the  succession  of  those  brilliant  sovereigns,  from 
the  time  that  the  Moslem  empire  in  Spain  was  united  under  the 
first,  and  fell  to  pieces  at  the  death  of  the  last  of  them ;  also 
the  Chronicle  of  Fernando  the  Saint,  with  the  reconquest  of 
Seville.     I  may  add  others  to  the  series ;    but  if  I  do  not, 
these,  with  additions,  illustrations,  &c,  will  make  a  couple  of 
volumes ;  and  I  feel  confident  that  I  can  make  the  work  a 
taking  one — giving  a  picture  of  Spain  at  various  periods  of  the 
Moorish  domination,  and  giving  illustrations  of  the  places  of 
noted  events,  from  what  I  myself  have  seen  in  my  rambles 
about  Spain.     Some  parts  of  these  Chronicles  run  into  a  quiet, 
drolling  vein,  especially  in  treating  of  miracles  and  miraculous 
events ;  on  which  occasion  Fray  Antonio  Agapida  comes  to 


IQ  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1847. 

my  assistance,  with  his  zeal  for  the  faith,  and  his  pious  hatred 
of  the  infidels.  You  see,  all  this  has  cost  me  but  a  very  few 
weeks  of  amusing  occupation,  and  has  put  me  quite  in  heart 
again,  as  well  as  in  literary  vein.  The  poring  over  my  pub- 
lished works  was  rather  muddling  me,  and  making  me  feel  as 
if  the  true  literary  vein  was  extinct.  I  think,  therefore,  you 
will  agree  with  me  that  my  time  for  the  last  five  weeks  has 
been  well  employed.  I  have  secured  the  frame  and  part  of 
the  finish  of  an  entire  new  work,  and  can  now  put  it  by  to  be 
dressed  off  at  leisure. 


Before  I  received  this  letter,  having  heard  from  a 
relative  who  was  staying  with  him  that  he  had  been  busy 
with  some  of  his  old  Moorish  Chronicles,  I  wrote  him 
that  I  had  a  very  agreeable  through  indistinct  recollec- 
tion of  the  manuscripts,  and  had  no  doubt  of  his  work- 
ing them  up  with  effect,  but  still  suggested  a  suspen- 
sion of  the  publication,  adding  that  the  reading  world 
might  not  be  content  with  these  literary  "  skimmings," 
while  waiting  with  impatience  the  appearance  of  a  uni- 
form edition  of  his  works  now  out  of  print.  I  added  : 
"  Make  all  despatch  with  the  preparation  of  your  uni- 
form edition,  and  then  to  work  to  complete  your  Life 
of  Washington,  and  take  your  ease  forever  after." 

In  reading  the  reply  which  I  give  below,  the  reader 
will  bear  in  mind  that  my  ill-starred  epistle  was  des- 
patched in  advance  of  the  receipt  of  the  author's  inter- 
esting letter  of  the  14th,  giving  me  an  insight  into  the 
character  of  his  new  labors,  dwelling  with  such  evident 


At.  64.]  OF  WASHINGTON   IRVING.  17 

satisfaction  on  his  "  literary  freak,"  and  showing  tho 
attraction  he  felt  in  the  theme. 

[To  Pierre  M.  Irving .] 

Scnntside,  April  15, 1847. 

My  dear  Pierre  : 

I  am  glad  I  did  not  receive  your  note  of  this  morning  be- 
fore my  new  work  was  beyond  the  danger  of  being  chilled  by 
a  damper.  You  can  know  nothing  of  the  work,  excepting 
what  you  may  recollect  of  an  extract  of  one  of  the  Chronicles 
which  I  once  published  in  the  Knickerbocker.*  The  whole 
may  be  mere  "  skimmings,"  but  they  pleased  me  in  the  prepa- 
ration ;  they  were  written  when  I  was  in  the  vein,  and  that  is 
the  only  guide  I  go  by  in  my  writings,  or  which  has  led  me  to 
success.  Besides,  I  write  for  pleasure  as  well  as  profit ;  and 
the  pleasure  I  have  recently  enjoyed  in  the  recurrence,  after  so 
long  an  interval,  of  my  old  literary  vein,  has  been  so  great, 
that  I  am  content  to  forego  any  loss  of  profit  it  may  occasion 
me  by  a  slight  postponement  of  the  republication  of  my  old 
works. 

These  old  Morisco  Spanish  subjects  have  a  charm  that 
makes  me  content  to  write  about  them  at  half  price.  They 
have  so  much  that  is  highminded  and  chivalrous  and  quaint 
and  picturesque  and  adventurous,  and  at  times  half  comic  about 
them. 

However,  I'll  say  no  more  on  the  subject,  but  another  time 
will  ride  my  hobby  privately,  without  saying  a  word  about  it 
to  anybody.  I  have  generally  found  that  the  best  way.  I  am 
too  easily  dismounted,  if  any  one  jostles  against  me. 

*  Pelayo  and  the  Merchant's  Daughter. 
Vol.  TV— (2) 


18  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1847. 

The  letter  of  the  14th,  which,  had  it  been  received 
earlier,  would  have  prevented  my  second  unlucky  epis- 
tle, like  a  thing  "  born  out  of  due  time,"  came  strag- 
gling in  on  the  17th,  two  days  after  the  letter  just 
cited  had  been  received  by  me.  I  was  sufficiently  an- 
noyed at  the  consequences  of  the  untimely  potion  I 
had  so  unwittingly  administered,  especially  with  the 
insight  now  afforded  of  the  character  of  the  work ;  and 
I  wrote  him  immediately,  explaining  and  recanting  as 
far  as  I  could,  but  in  vain.  He  had  been  disconcerted, 
and  would  not  resume  the  theme. 

In  the  following  letter,  however,  written  a  fortnight 
later,  he  returns  to  the  subject  in  his  characteristically 
playful  vein,  his  annoyance  having  passed  off  almost 
with  the  letter  that  gave  expression  to  it. 

[To  Mrs.  Pierre  M.  Irving.] 

Sunnyside,  April  30, 1847. 

*  *  *  The  girls  say  you  can  come  up  to  Sunnyside  as 
soon  as  you  please.  *  *  *  To-day  my  "  women  kind  "  of 
the  kitchen  remove  bag  and  baggage  into  the  new  tower,  which 
is  getting  its  outside  coat  of  white ;  so  that,  when  you  come 
up,  you  will  find  it,  like  the  trees,  in  full  blossom.  The  coun- 
try is  beginning  to  look  lovely  ;  the  buds  and  blossoms  are  just 
putting  forth ;  the  birds  are  in  full  song ;  so  that,  unless  you 
come  up  soon,  you  will  miss  the  overture  of  the  season — the 
first  sweet  notes  of  the  year. 

You  tell  me  Pierre  was  quite  distressed  lest  any  "  thought- 
less word  of  his  should  have  marred  my  happy  literary  mood." 


Mi.  64.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  19 

Tell  him  not  to  be  uneasy.  Authors  are  not  so  easily  put  out 
of  conceit  of  their  offspring.  Like  the  good  archbishop  of 
Granada,  'that  model  and  mirror  of  authorship,  I  knew  "  the 
homily  in  question  to  be  the  very  best  I  had  ever  composed ; " 
so,  like  my  great  prototype,  I  remained  fixed  in  my  self-com- 
placency, wishing  Pierre  "  toda  felicidad  con  un  poco  de  mas 
gusto." 

When  I  once  get  you  up  to  Sunnyside,  I  shall  feel  sure  of 
an  occasional  Sunday  visit  from  Pierre.  I  long  extremely  to 
have  a  sight  of  him ;  and  as  there  seems  to  be  no  likelihood 
of  my  getting  to  New  York  much  before  next  autumn,  I  do 
not  know  how  a  meeting  is  to  be  brought  about  unless  he 
comes  up  here.  I  shall  see  him  with  the  more  ease  and  con- 
fidence now,  as,  my  improvements  being  pretty  nigh  completed, 
he  cannot  check  me,  nor  cut  off  the  supplies. 

Tell  him  I  promise  not  to  bore  him  about  literary  matters 
when  he  comes  up.  I  have  as  great  a  contempt  for  these 
things  as  anybody,  though  I  have  to  stoop  to  them  occasionally 
for  the  sake  of  a  livelihood ;  but  I  want  to  have  a  little  talk 
with  him  about  stocks,  and  railroads,  and  some  mode  of  screw- 
ing and  jewing  the  world  out  of  more  interest  than  one's 
money  is  entitled  to. 

God  bless  you  and  him,  prays  your  affectionate  uncle, 

"Washington  Irving. 

Late  in  the  winter,  Mr.  Irving  had  commissioned 
his  brother-in-law,  Mr.  Henry  Yan  Wart,  then  on  a 
visit  to  this  country,  to  purchase  a  saddle  horse  for 
him.  He  had  not  mounted  a  horse  since  he  went  to 
Spain,  but  began  to  feel  the  necessity  of  this  sort  of 


20  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1847. 

exercise.  March  5th,  Mr.  Yan  "Wart  writes  him :  "  I 
have  at  last  succeeded  in  finding  a  horse  which  I  think 
will  suit  yon,  and  purchased  him  for  $110.  He  is 
handsome,  and  the  best-tempered,  gentle  creature  I 
ever  saw  ;  and  I  think  you  will  take  much  pleasure  in 
riding  him."  The  horse,  after  being  kept  in  a  stable  in 
New  York  for  several  weeks,  and  used  and  trained  by 
Mr.  Yan  "Wart  and  his  son  Irving,  was  brought  to 
Sunnyside  toward  the  close  of  April.  Here  is  the  first 
report  of  his  qualifications  by  the  long-dismounted 
equestrian : 

Scnnyside,  April  26, 1847. 

My  dear  Pierre  : 

*  *  *  The  horse  purchased  by  Mr.  Van  "Wart  is  a 
very  fine  animal,  and  very  gentle,  but  he  does  not  suit  me.  I 
have  ridden  him  once,  and  find  him,  as  I  apprehended,  awk- 
ward and  uncomfortable  on  the  trot,  which  is  the  gait  I  most 
like.  He  is  rather  skittish  also,  and  has  laid  my  coachman  in 
the  dust  by  one  of  his  pirouettes.  This,  however,  might  be 
the  effect  of  being  shut  up  in  the  stable  of  late,  and  without 
sufficient  exercise ;  but  he  is  quite  a  different  horse  from  the 
easy,  steady,  quiet  "  parson's  "  nag  that  I  wanted.  I  shall  give 
him  one  more  good  trial,  but  rather  apprehend  I  shall  have  to 
send  him  to  town,  to  be  sold  for  what  he  will  fetch. 

April  28th,  he  writes  me  : 

In  my  letter,  the  other  day,  I  spoke  rather  disparagingly  of 
my  new  horse.  Justice  to  an  injured  animal  induces  me  to 
leave  the  enclosed  letter  open  for  your  perusal,  after  which  you 
will  hand  it  to  I.  Y.  "W. 


&t.  64.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  21 

Here  follows  the  letter  enclosed  : 

Sonnybide,  April  28, 1847. 

My  dear  Irving  : 

In  a  letter  to  Pierre  M.  Irving,  the  other  day,  I  gave  an 
unfavorable  opinion  of  the  horse,  as  it  regarded  my  peculiar 
notions  and  wishes.  That  opinion  was  founded  on  a  slight 
trial.  I  yesterday  took  a  long  ride  on  him  among  the  hills, 
and  put  him  through  all  his  paces,  and  found  him  fully  answer- 
ing the  accounts  given  of  him  by  your  father  and  yourself. 
His  trot  is  not  what  I  could  wish ;  but  that  will  improve,  or 
will  be  less  disagreeable  as  we  become  accustomed  to  each 
other,  and  get  into  each  other's  ways.  He  shies  a  little  now 
and  then,  but  that  is  probably  the  result  of  having  him  kept  in 
the  stable  of  late,  without  use.  Daily  exercise  will  in  a  great 
measure  cure  him  of  it.  He  canters  well,  and  walks  splen- 
didly. His  temper  appears  to  be  perfect.  He  is  lively  and 
cheerful,  without  the  least  heat  or  fidgetiness,  and  is  as  docile 
as  a  lamb.  I  tried  him  also  in  harness  in  a  light  wagon,  and 
found  him  just  as  gentle  and  tractable  as  under  the  saddle.  He 
looks  well  and  moves  well  in  single  harness,  and  a  child  might 
drive  him.  However,  I  mean  to  keep  him  entirely  for  the 
saddle.  To  conclude  :  when  you  write  to  your  father,  tell  him 
I  consider  the  hoise  a  prize ;  and  if  he  only  continues  to  be- 
have as  well  as  he  did  yesterday,  I  hardly  know  the  sum  of 
money  would  tempt  me  to  part  with  him. 

I  now  look  forward  to  a  great  deal  of  pleasant  and  healthy 
exercise  on  horseback — a  recreation  I  have  not  enjoyed  for 
years  for  want  of  a  good  saddle  horse.  It  is  like  having  a  new 
sense. 


22  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1847. 

And  he  did  enjoy  his  first  rides  wonderfully.  "  In- 
stead," he  says,  "  of  being  pinned  down  to  one  place, 
or  forced  to  be  trundled  about  on  wheels,  I  went 
lounging  and  cantering  about  the  country,  in  all  holes 
and  comers,  and  over  the  roughest  roads." 

In  less  than  a  month,  however,  the  same  horse  was 
conducted  to  the  city  by  the  nephew  to  whom  the  pre- 
ceding letter  was  addressed,  and  sold  at  Tattersall's ; 
and  here  is  the  closing  chapter  of  his  equestrian  expe- 
rience with  the  animal  whom  he  had  hoped  to  find 
such  a  prize : 

You  are  pleased  to  hear  (he  writes  to  his  niece  in  Paris, 
Mrs.  Storrow,  June  6)  that  I  have  a  saddle  horse.  Unfortu- 
nately, I  have  him  no  longer.  Your  uncle  Van  "Wart  pur- 
chased one  for  me,  which  appeared  to  be  all  that  I  could  wish 
— handsome,  young,  gentle,  and  of  excellent  movement.  I 
rode  him  two  or  three  times,  and  was  delighted  with  him, 
when,  one  day,  the  lurking  fault  came  out.  As  I  was  taking  a 
sauntering  ride  over  the  Sawmill  River,  and  had  gone  a  couple 
of  miles,  he  ail  at  once  stopped,  and  declined  to  go  any  farther. 
I  tried  all  manner  of  means,  but  in  vain  ;  he  would  do  nothing 
but  return  home.  On  my  way  homeward,  I  tried  him  by  dif- 
ferent roads,  but  all  to  no  purpose  ;  home  he  would  go.  He 
was  not  restive,  but  calmly  stubborn,  and,  when  I  endeavored 
to  force  him  round,  would  quietly  back  against  the  fence,  or  get 
on  two  legs.  So,  as  I  did  not  care  to  waste  time  or  temper  on 
a  sullen  beast,  home  I  did  go — got  off  his  back,  and  never 
mounted  him  again.  He  balked  twice  in  like  manner,  but  not 
so  bad,  with  my  coachman ;  so  I  gave  him  over  to  I.  V.  "W., 


JEr.  64.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  23 

to  be  sold  at  auction,  and  was  glad  to  get  rid  of  him  with  the 
loss  of  twenty  or  thirty  dollars.  I  shall  not  indulge  in  another 
saddle  horse  at  present. 

The  new  building  being  finished  and  inhabited,  and 
the  alterations  and  additions  having  turned  out  beyond 
his  hopes,  both  as  to  appearance  and  convenience,  Mr. 
Irving,  in  felicitating  himself  upon  his  internal  im- 
provements, writes  to  the  same  correspondent,  June  C : 

The  nortli  end  of  my  study  has  been  shelved  like  the  other 
parts ;  the  books  which  so  long  were  exiled  to  the  garret,  have 
been  brought  down  and  arranged,  and  my  library  now  makes  a 
very  respectable  appearance. 

Then  passing  from  the  internal  to  the  external  im- 
provements : 

As  to  my  grounds,  I  have  cut  down  and  transplanted 
enough  trees  to  furnish  two  ordinary  places,  and  still  there  are, 
if  anything,  too  many ;  but  I  have  opened  beautiful  views,  and 
have  given  room  for  the  air  to  circulate.  The  season  is  now  in 
all  its  beauty ;  the  trees  in  full  leaf,  but  the  leaves  fresh  and 
tender ;  the  honeysuckles  are  in  flower,  and  I  think  I  never 
saw  the  place  look  so  well. 

August  13,  1847,  he  writes  to  Mrs.  Charlotte  I. 
Grinnell,  a  niece  recently  severed  from  his  household 
by  marriage,  in  her  new  home  on  Cayuga  Lake  : 

*  *  *  For  a  month  past  I  have  been  busy  and  both- 
ered in  an  unexampled  manner,  in  the  improvement  of  my 


24  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1847. 

farmyard,  building  of  outhouses,  &c.,  which  has  been  altogether 
the  most  fatiguing  and  irksome  job  I  have  had  in  the  whole 
course  of  my  additions  and  improvements.  I  have  now  nearly 
got  through,  but  it  has  almost  made  me  fit  to  lie  by  again  on 
the  sofa.  However,  this  job  finished,  I  shall  have  my  place  in 
tolerable  order,  and  will  have  little  more  to  do  than  to  see  that 
my  men  keep  it  so. 

Ten  days  later,  he  writes  to  Mrs.  Storrow,  at  Paris : 

*  *  *  This  has  been  a  toilful  year  to  me ;  for,  after  I 
had  completed  the  additions  to  my  house,  I  proceeded  to  bring 
my  place  into  complete  order,  to  enclose  a  kitchen  yard,  to 
enclose  the  stable,  and  make  a  large  farmyard,  poultry  yard, 
outhouses,  &c. ;  and  working  as  much  as  possible  with  my 
own  people,  and  planning  and  superintending  everything  my- 
self, it  has  kept  me  continually  on  my  legs  in  the  heat  of  the 
summer,  fagged  me  excessively,  and  kept  up  and  increased  the 
inflammation  of  my  unlucky  ankles.  I  have  now  got  through 
with  all  the  essential  improvements,  and  shall  be  able  to  give 
myself  repose.  *  *  *  I  have  the  satisfaction  to  have 
brought  my  place  into  order,  and  to  have  put  it  in  a  condition 
to  be  comfortably  and  conveniently  managed  hereafter.  It  is  a 
snug  establishment  both  within  doors  and  without. 

Four  days  later,  he  writes,  after  alluding  to  the  im- 
proved beauty  of  the  country  in  that  neighborhood  : 

My  own  place  has  never  been  so  beautiful  as  at  present.  I 
have  made  more  openings  by  pruning  and  cutting  down  trees, 
so  that  from  the  piazza  I  have  several  charming  views  of  the 


^Et.  64.]  OF   WASHINGTON   IRVING.  25 

Tappan  Zee  and  the  hills  beyond,  all  set,  as  it  were,  in  verdant 
frames  ;  and  I  am  never  tired  of  sitting  there  in  my  old  Vol- 
taire chair,  of  a  long  summer  morning,  with  a  book  in  my 
hand,  sometimes  reading,  sometimes  musing,  and  sometimes 
dozing,  and  mixing  all  up  in  a  pleasant  dream. 

To  his  sister,  at  Birmingham,  Mrs.  Van  Wart,  who 
had  not  seen  her  native  city  in  forty  years,  he  writes, 
August  29,  1847 : 

I  often  think  what  a  strange  world  you  would  find  yourself 
in,  if  you  could  revisit  your  native  place,  and  mingle  among 
your  relatives.  New  York,  as  you  knew  it,  was  a  mere  corner 
of  the  present  huge  city ;  and  that  corner  is  all  changed,  pulled 
to  pieces,  burnt  down  and  rebuilt — all  but  our  little  native  nest 
in  William  street,  which  still  retains  some  of  its  old  features, 
though  those  are  daily  altering.*  I  can  hardly  realize  that, 
within  my  term  of  life,  this  great  crowded  metropolis,  so  full 
of  life,  bustle,  noise,  show,  and  splendor,  was  a  quiet  little  city 
of  some  fifty  or  sixty  thousand  inhabitants.  It  is  really  now 
one  of  the  most  racketing  cities  in  the  world,  and  reminds  me 
of  one  of  the  great  European  cities  (Frankfort,  for  instance)  in 
the  time  of  an  annual  fair.  Here  it  is  a  fair  almost  all  the 
year  round.  For  my  part,  I  dread  the  noise  and  turmoil  of  it, 
and  visit  it  but  now  and  then,  preferring  the  quiet  of  my  coun- 
try retreat ;  which  shows  that  the  bustling  time  of  life  is  over 
with  me,  and  that  I  am  settling  down  into  a  sober,  quiet,  good- 
for-nothing  old  gentleman.     *     *     * 

*  This  dwelling — No.  128  William  street — the  first  home  of  which 
Washington  or  the  sister  to  whom  he  was  writing  had  any  recollection, 
was  pulled  down  in  May,  1849,  and  a  large  edifice  built  on  its  site. 
Vol.  IV.— 2 


26  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1847. 

I  am  scribbling  tbis  letter  while  the  family  are  all  at 
church.  I  hear  the  carriage  at  a  distance,  and  shall  soon  have 
all  hands  at  home.  Oh  !  my  dear  sister,  what  would  I  give  if 
you  and  yours  could  this  day  be  with  us,  and  join  the  family 
gathering  round  my  board.  Every  day  I  regret  more  and 
more  this  severance  of  the  different  branches  of  the  family 
which  casts  us  so  widely  asunder,  with  an  ocean  between  us. 

Eleven  days  later  (September  9),  he  writes  to  Mrs. 
Paris : 

I  have  just  finished  my  last  job,  making  a  new  ice  pond  in 
a  colder  and  deeper  place,  in  the  glen  just  opposite  our  entrance 
gate ;  and  now  I  would  not  undertake  another  job,  even  so 
much  as  to  build  a  wren  coop,  for  the  slightest  job  seems  to 
swell  into  a  toilsome  and  expensive  operation. 

The  following  letter  is  addressed  to  a  favorite  little 
grandnieee  at  Paris,  daughter  of  Mrs.  Storrow,  who 
had  sent  him  an  offering  of  one  of  her  first  efforts  at 
sewing — the  same  of  whom  he  says,  in  another  letter  : 
"  Kate,  who  was  my  idol  when  I  was  in  Paris,  and 
used  to  take  such  possession  of  me,  and  oblige  me  to 
put  away  my  spectacles,  and  give  up  my  book,  and  en- 
tertain her  for  the  hundredth  time  with  the  story  of 
little  Miss  Muss  and  Hempen  House." 

[To  Miss  Kate  Storrow .] 

Sunntside,  August  27, 1847. 

My  dear  Kate  : 

I  thank  you  very  much  for  the  beautiful  handkerchief 
which  you  have  sent  me.     I  am  very  proud  of  it,  and  show  it 


JBt.64.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  27 

to  everybody,  to  let  them  see  how  capitally  my  clear  little  Kate 
can  sew.  I  hope  you  will  teach  Tutu  to  handle  her  needle  as 
well  as  you  do,  and  then  you  and  she  will  be  able  to  do  all 
your  mamma's  sewing,  which  will  be  a  great  saving  to  her,  and 
a  great  help  to  Henriette. 

I  am  happy  to  hear  that  you  have  a  nice  little  new  sister. 
I  trust,  as  you  are  a  big  girl  now,  you  will  take  great  care  of 
her ;  and,  above  all  things,  set  ber  a  good  example,  by  being  a 
very  good  girl  yourself,  and  very  obedient  to  your  mamma. 
As  soon  as  she  is  old  enough,  you  must  take  her  with  you  and 
Tutu  to  the  garden  of  the  Tuileries,  and  show  her  to  the  little 
fish  that  used  to  give  good  little  Betsey  Posy  a  silver  dish,  and 
tell  him  that  this  is  the  new  little  sister  of  Betsey  Posy  and 
Jenny  Posy,  and  that  her  name  is  Julie  Posy,  and  then  per- 
haps he  will  give  her  a  silver  dish  also. 

Gi\*e  my  love  to  Tutu,  and  remember  me  kindly  to  Nanna 
and  Aya.  Your  affectionate  uncle, 

Washington  Irving. 

Though  not  in  the  order  of  time,  I  give  in  this 
place  two  other  letters  to  the  same  little  favorite,  as 
specimens  of  the  happy  playfulness  with  which  he 
adapted  himself  to  the  minds  of  children  : 

[To  the  same.] 

Scnntsidk,  July  15, 1852. 

My  dear  Kate  : 

I  thank  you  for  your  charming  little  letter.  It  is  very  well 
expressed  and  very  nicely  written,  and,  what  pleases  me  most 
of  all,  it  is  written  to  me.  You  must  have  had  a  pleasant  time 
at  Compeigne  with  such  an  agreeable  party.     I  recollect  the 


28  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  11847. 

place  well,  and  the  beautiful  palace,  with  the  pretty  boudoir 
which  you  all  liked  so  much  because  there  was  a  glass  there  in 
which  you  saw  yourselves  four  times.  I  did  not  notice  that 
glass,  and  therefore  was  not  so  much  struck  with  the  boudoir. 
I  recollect  Pierrefond  also,  and  was  all  over  the  ruins  and  the 
surrounding  forest,  which  put  me  in  mind  of  what  I  had  read 
about  old  castles  in  fairy  tales.  If  I  could  only  have  seen  you 
driving  through  the  forest  in  your  open  carriage  with  four 
white  horses,  I  should  have  thought  you  one  of  the  enchanted 
princesses.  You  should  take  care  how  you  venture  out  of  your 
carriage  in  such  a  place  to  gather  lilies  of  the  valley  and  other 
wild  flowers.  Don't  you  know  what  happened  once  to  a  young 
lady  (I  think  her  name  was  Proserpine),  who  was  carried  off 
by  a  wicked  king  in  sight  of  her  mamma,  as  she  was  gathering 
flowers  in  the  same  way  you  were  ?  Your  mamma  will  tell 
you  the  story,  if  you  have  not  heard  it. 

You  say  you  would  like  to  live  at  Compeigne  always,  it  is 
so  pretty,  and  you  passed  your  time  so  pleasantly  in  the  park, 
"  sitting  on  the  grass,  making  beautiful  wreaths  of  buttercups 
and  daisies."  I  think  one  might  pass  one's  life  very  pleasantly 
and  profitably  in  that  manner.  I  recollect  trying  my  hand  at 
buttercups  and  daisies  once,  and  finding  it  very  agreeable, 
though  I  have  got  out  of  the  way  of  it  of  late  years,  except- 
ing that  Dick,  my  horse,  now  and  then  cuts  daisies  with  me 
when  I  am  on  his  back ;  but  that's  to  please  himself,  not  me. 

To-morrow  I  am  going  to  set  out  on  a  journey  with  a  large 
party,  including  your  cousins  Julia,  Fanny,  and  Irving  Grin- 
nell.  "We  shall  see  no  castles,  but  will  voyage  on  great  lakes 
and  rivers,  and  through  wild  forests.  I  wish  you  were  going 
with  us,  but  I  suppose  I  must  wish  in  vain ;  that  must  be  for 
some  future  day.     And  now,  my  dear  Kate,  give  my  love  to 


ASr.  04.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  29 

Susie  and  Julie,  and  my  kind  remembrances  to  Henriette  [the 
nurse].  Your  affectionate  uncle, 

Washington  Irving. 

Two  years  later,  he  writes  to  the  same  little  corre- 
spondent as  follows : 

Sonntside,  Feb.  21, 1854. 

My  dear  Kate  : 

I  have  just  received  the  slippers  which  you  have  been  so 
very  good  as  to  work  for  me,  and  which  have  been  a  long  time 
in  the  shoemaker's  hands.  Having  put  them  on,  I  sit  down  to 
tell  you  how  well  they  fit  me  ;  how  much  I  admire  the  colors 
you  have  chosen  ;  how  much  I  am  astonished  and  delighted 
with  the  needlework ;  and  how  very  sensibly  I  feel  this  proof 
of  affectionate  remembrance.  I  assure  you  I  take  great  pride 
in  exhibiting  this  specimen  of  the  taste  and  skill  of  my  Parisian 
niece,  and,  if  I  were  in  Paris,  should  be  very  much  tempted  to 
go  to  Court  in  them,  even  at  the  risk  of  causing  a  question  of 
costume. 

I  dined,  a  few  days  since,  in  company  with  your  father's 
partner,  Mr.  B.  *  *  *  He  told  me  that  it  was  very  pos- 
sible you  might  all  pay  a  visit  to  America  this  year.  That, 
however,  I  put  about  as  much  faith  in  as  in  the  return  of  the 
fairies.  I  hope,  however,  you  still  keep  up  a  recollection  of 
your  home  on  this  side  of  the  water,  and  of  your  young  cousins 
who  were  your  playmates.  They  and  their  intimates  make  a 
very  happy  circle,  and  it  grieves  me  much  that  you  and  your 
sisters  are  not  with  them,  all  growing  up  together  in  delightful 
companionship.  If  you  remain  much  longer  separated,  you 
will  all  forget  each  other.     *     *     * 

Farewell,  my  dear  Kate.     Give  my  love  to  my  dear  little 


30  WFE  AND  LETTERS  [1847. 

nieces  Tutu  and  Gaga  (who  I  fancy  have  completely  forgotten 
rne),  and  to  your  mother,  to  whom  I  wrote  recently.  Tell 
your  father  we  should  all  give  him  a  hearty  welcome  if  he 
should  really  come  out  this  summer ;  and  a  still  heartier  one 
should  he  bring  you  all  with  him. 

Your  affectionate  uncle, 

"Washington  Irving. 

The  following  is  in  reply  to  a  youthful  author,  who 
sends  him  his  "  Summer  in  the  Wilderness,"  of  which 
he  remarks :  "  It  is  an  unpretending  affair ;  but, 
though  published  only  about  three  months  ago,  it  has 
already  passed  through  an  edition  of  fifteen  hundred. 
*  *  *  If,  after  you  have  glanced  over  the  pages  of 
my  little  book,  you  will  send  me  a  brief  letter  of  ad- 
vice, I  should  consider  myself  your  most  grateful 
friend.  Such  a  letter  would  be  particularly  acceptable 
at  the  present  time,  as  I  am  preparing  for  the  press  no 
less  than  three  new  books — one  upon  American  Art, 
one  upon  the  Fishes  of  America,  and  another  to  be  en- 
titled '  Adventures  of  an  Angler.'  " 

\To  Charles  Lanman,  New  York.] 

Sunntside,  Oct.  15,  1847. 

My  dear  Sir  : 

I  would  not  reply  to  your  very  obliging  letter  of  Septem- 
ber 10th,  until  I  had  time  to  read  the  volumes  which  accompa- 
nied it.  This,  from  the  pressure  of  various  engagements,  I 
have  but  just  been  able  to  do ;  and  I  now  return  you  thanks 
for  the  delightful  entertainment  Avhich  your  summer  rambles 
have  afforded  me.     I  do  not  see  that  I  have  any  literary  advice 


jEt.  G4.J  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  31 

to  give  you,  excepting  to  keep  on  as  you  have  begun.  You 
seem  to  have  the  happy,  enjoyable  humor  of  old  Izaak  Wal- 
ton. I  anticipate  great  success,  therefore,  in  your  works  on  our 
American  Fishes,  and  on  Angling,  which  I  trust  will  give  us 
still  further  scenes  and  adventures  on  our  great  internal  waters, 
depicted  with  the  freshness  and  graphic  skill  of  your  present 
volumes.  In  fact,  the  adventurous  life  of  the  angler  amidst  our 
wild  scenery  on  our  vast  lakes  and  rivers,  must  furnish  a 
striking  contrast  to  the  quiet  loiterings  of  the  English  angler 
along  the  Trent  or  Dove,  with  country  milkmaids  to  sing  mad- 
rigals to  him,  and  a  snug,  decent  country  inn  at  night,  where 
he  may  sleep  in  sheets  that  have  been  laid  in  lavender. 

"With  best  wishes  for  your  success,  I  am,  my  dear  sir,  very 

truly  your  obliged, 

Washington  Irving. 

Meanwhile,  overtures  were  multiplying  from  the 
booksellers  for  a  republication  of  his  works,  but  he 
still  delayed  to  make  any  definite  arrangement.  Trans- 
mitting to  me  some  proposals  he  had  received  from  dif- 
ferent publishers  toward  the  close  of  September,  he 
writes :  "  I  am  so  much  occupied,  mind  and  pen,  just 
now,  on  the  History  of  Washington,  that  I  have  not 
time  to  turn  these  matters  over  in  my  mind." 

He  was  now,  and  for  several  months  hereafter,  hard 
at  work  on  this  biography,  making  it  a  daily  task. 

At  the  date  of  the  following  letter,  he  is  on  a  visit 
to  the  city,  to  be  within  reach  of  the  libraries,  but  in- 
tending, as  will  be  seen,  to  be  at  home  to  hold  his 
Christmas  gathering : 


32  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1847 

[To  Miss  Catherine  Irving.] 

New  Yobk,  Dec.  20, 1847. 

My  deak  Kate  : 

I  had  expected  to  return  home  before  this,  but  am  so  en- 
tangled in  engagements,  that  I  shall  not  be  able  before  Christ- 
mas eve  (Friday  next).  I  trust  you  will  have  the  rooms  deco- 
rated with  greens,  as  usual. 

I  have  been  very  busy  and  very  dissipated  during  my  so- 
journ in  town — at  work  all  the  mornings  in  the  libraries,  and 
frolicking  in  the  evenings.  I  have  attended  every  opera.  The 
house  is  beautiful,  the  troupe  very  fair,  and  the  audience  very 
fashionable.  Such  beautiful  young  ladies ! — but  the  town  is 
full  of  them ;  almost  as  beautiful  as  the  young  lady  I  saw  in 
my  dream  at  the  cottage. 


iET.  64.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  33 


CHAPTEK    II 


DINNER  AT  JOHN  JACOB  ASTOE's — CONVERSATION  ABOUT  GHOSTS — ENGAGED  ON 
HIS  LIFE  OP  WASHINGTON — ANNOYED  AT  THE  WANT  OF  FEATURE  IN  PARTS 
OF  THE  WAR — THE  OPERA  HOUSE,  ONE  OF  THE  GREAT  CHARMS  OF  NEW  YORK 
THE  PROJECTED  RAILROAD  ALONG  THE  BANKS  OF  THE  HUDSON — IMPEND- 
ING DESECRATION  OF  SUNNYSIDE — TESTIMONIAL  OF  THE  LAND  COMMITTEE — 
ADJUSTMENT  OF  DAMAGES— LETTER  TO  HACKETT — ARRANGEMENT  WITH  MR. 
PUTNAM  FOR  THE  REPUBLICATION  OF  HIS  WORKS — KNICKERBOCKER — AU- 
THOR'S REMARKS  ABOUT  THE  REVISED  EDITION — NOTICE  OF  HENRY  T.  TUCK- 
ERMAN  —  A  GERMAN  COMMENTATOR  CITING  KNICKERBOCKER  —  SCHAEFFER'S 
CHRISTCS  CONSOLATOR — NOTICES  OF  THE  REPUBLICATION  OF  THE  SKETCH 
BOOK — LIBERAL   RECEPTION   OF   THE    REVISED   SERIES. 


t  I  THE  opening  of  this  year  finds  Mr.  Irving  on  a 
-*-  prolonged  visit  to  New  York.  The  following 
letter  is  addressed  to  Mrs.  Storrow  from  the  residence 
of  his  nephew,  John  T.  Irving,  where  he  was  fixed  for 
the  present : 

New  York,  Feb.  27. 

*  *  *  After  eleven  months'  seclusion  in  the  country, 
during  which  I  made  but  three  or  four  visits  of  business  to 
town,  going  down  and  returning  the  same  day  in  the  boat,  I 
came  down  on  a  visit  early  in  the  winter,  having  recovered 
sufficiently  from  my  old  malady  to  go  again  into  society.  The 
cordial,  and  I  may  say  affectionate  reception  I  met  with  every- 
where, and  the  delight  I  felt  on  mingling  once  more  among  old 

Vol.  IV.— 2*  (3) 


34  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1S48. 

friends,  had  such  an  enlivening  effect  upon  me,  that  I  soon  re- 
peated my  visit,  and  have  ended  by  passing  almost  the  whole 
of  the  winter  in  town.  I  think  it  has  had  a  good  effect  upon 
me  in  every  way.  It  has  rejuvenated  me,  and  given  such  a 
healthful  tone  to  my  mind  and  spirits,  that  I  have  worked  with 
greater  alacrity  and  success.  I  have  my  books  and  papers 
with  me,  and  generally  confine  myself  to  the  house  and  to  my 
pen  all  the  long  morning,  and  then  give  up  the  evening  to  soci- 
ety and  amusement. 

One  great  charm  of  New  York,  at  present,  is  a  beautiful 
opera  house,  and  a  very  good  troupe.  We  have  a  prima 
donna,  named  Truffi,  who  delights  me  as  much  as  Grisi  did, 
and  in  the  same  line  of  characters,  though  I  will  not  say  she  is 
equal  to  her  excepting  in  occasional  scenes.  She  is  an  admi- 
rable actress  and  an  excellent  singer.  "We  have  an  excellent 
tenor  also — a  young  man  who,  when  he  gets  more  cultivation 
and  training,  will  be  worthy  of  the  Pans  stage.  The  theatre 
is  well  arranged,  and  so  fashionable  in  every  part  that  there  is 
no  jealousy  about  places,  as  in  the  old  opera  house  here.  La- 
dies are  seated  everywhere,  and,  with  their  gay  dresses,  make 
what  is  the  parquette  in  other  theatres  look  like  a  bed  of  flow- 
ers. It  is  filled  every  night.  Everybody  is  well  dressed,  and 
it  is  altogether  one  of  the  gayest,  prettiest,  and  most  polite- 
looking  theatres  I  have  ever  seen.  *  *  *  I  have  not 
missed  a  single  performance  since  I  have  been  in  town. 
****** 

One  meets  all  one's  acquaintances  at  the  opera,  and  there  is 
much  visiting  from  box  to  box,  and  pleasant  conversation,  be- 
tween the  acts.  The  opera  house  is  in  fact  the  great  feature  in 
polite  society  in  New  York,  and  I  believe  is  the  great  attrac- 
tion that  keeps  me  in  town.     Music  is  to  me  the  great  sweet- 


^Et.  64.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  35 

encr  of  existence,  and  I  never  enjoyed  it  more  abundantly  than 
at  present. 

March  8,  Mr.  Irving  refers  to  "a  fancy  ball  re- 
cently given  at  the  opera  house,  of  which,"  he  says, 
"  I,  sorely  against  my  will,  was  made  one  of  the  man- 
agers." It  was  a  distasteful  position,  but  he  had  not 
the  faculty  of  resisting  well-intended  importunity  in 
trifles. 

A  portion  of  this  period  of  his  lengthened  sojourn 
in  New  York  he  was  the  guest  of  John  Jacob  Astor, 
then  eighty-four  years  of  age,  whom  he  had  often 
urged,  he  tells  us,  to  commence  his  noble  enterprise  of 
the  Astor  Library,  and  enjoy  the  reputation  of  it  while 
living.  It  was  left,  however,  to  be  carried  out  under 
the  provisions  of  his  will. 

Calling  on  Mr.  Irving  one  morning  before  break- 
fast at  Mr.  Astor's,  I  found  him  engaged  on  his  Life  of 
Washington,  but  somewhat  out  of  patience  at  the  want 
of  feature  in  parts  of  the  war.  It  was  so  barren  of 
interest — such  a  cursed  sand  flat ;  the  two  enemies,  like 
two  drunken  men,  impotently  striking  at  each  other 
without  hurting.  Sometimes,  he  said,  he  dragged 
along  ;  at  other  times  got  a  little  breeze,  and  went  for- 
ward briskly ;  then  adverting  to  the  changes  of  mood 
in  his  task,  sometimes  felt  as  if  he  could  remove  moun- 
tains ;  at  other  times,  the  molehill  was  a  mountain. 

I  was  dining  with  him,  at  another  time,  at  Mr. 
Astor's,  during  this  period,   when,   the   conversation 


36  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1548. 

turning  upon  ghosts,  I  mentioned  the  story  of  Wesley, 
and  the  sanction  given  to  it  by  Southey  in  his  life  of 

that  eminent  divine.      ,  who  was  also  dining 

there,  instanced  the  story  of  Major  Blomberg,  and  ex- 
pressed his  surprise  that  neither  Scott  in  his  Demon- 
ology,  nor  Dendie  in  his  Philosophy  of  Mystery,  had 
included  this  most  remarkable  ghost  story.  Two  offi- 
cers were  sitting  up  with  a  corpse  in  the  West  Indies  ; 
one  was  in  the  room  with  the  body,  the  other  in  an 
adjoining  room  which  communicated.  The  corpse 
rose ;  came  to  the  person  in  same  room  ;  told  him  he 
had  a  secret  to  communicate,  to  prevent  a  great  wrong ; 
had  been  permitted  to  return  to  life  to  reveal  it ;  bade 
him  summon  (which  he  did)  his  companion  in  the  ad- 
joining room,  to  hear  his  disclosure ;  told  of  a  secret 
marriage  to  a  girl  in  Ireland  now  with  child  ;  stated 
the  name  of  the  clergyman  who  married  them,  and 

how  they  could  get  the  evidence.     had  seen 

the  depositions.  Mr.  Irving  suggested  the  solution 
that  the  man  was  not  dead,  and  that  this  secret  lay  so 
heavily  on  his  mind  as  to  rouse  him  from  his  state  of 
apparent  death.  He  then  proceeded  to  say  that  he 
had  been  hardly  treated  by  the  ghosts ;  that  he  had 
invoked  the  presence  of  the  dead  more  than  once,  but 
in  vain ;  and  brought  up  especially  the  singular  com- 
pact with  Hall,  and  its  barren  result,  narrated  in  a  pre- 
vious volume. 

Mr.  Irving  had  been  much  disturbed  by  a  project 
which  had  been  started,  of  running  a  railroad  along 


Mx.  64.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRTING.  37 

the  eastern  bank  of  the  Hudson.  Besides  the  utter 
desecration  which  he  considered  it  of  that  beautiful 
shore,  it  threatened  to  make  his  little  cottage  almost 
untenable,  inasmuch  as  its  situation  on  the  immediate 
margin  of  the  river  would  bring  the  nuisance,  with  all 
its  noise  and  unsightliness,  to  his  very  door,  and  mar 
forever,  as  he  feared,  the  peculiar  charms  for  which  he 
had  chosen  the  spot — its  quiet  and  retirement.  For  a 
time  he  hoped  the  plan  would  not  be  earned  out,  and, 
when  it  was  actually  decided,  was  quite  in  despair.  It 
was  hopeless,  however,  to  rebel ;  and,  once  settled,  he 
began,  in  his  accustomed  way,  to  try  to  make  the  best 
of  it.  As  it  was  carried  a  short  distance  out  in  the 
river,  he  was  spared  the  trial  of  having  it  cross  his 
very  grounds ;  and  the  trees  along  the  bank  formed  a 
screen  that  he  hoped,  with  a  little  care,  would  soon 
shut  it  out  from  view.  Though  in  the  first  paroxysm 
of  annoyance,  therefore,  he  wished  "  he  had  been  born 
when  the  world  was  finished/'  and  declared  he  be- 
lieved, "  if  the  garden  of  Eden  were  now  on  earth, 
they  would  not  hesitate  to  ran  a  railroad  through  it," 
yet,  when  the  committee  came  whose  duty  it  was  to 
call  on  the  owners  of  property,  and  arrange  for  the 
terms  of  compensation,  Mr.  Irving  submitted  at  once, 
giving  them  permission  to  commence  the  work  when 
they  chose ;  and,  as  the  damage  to  him  was  such  as 
could  not  be  paid  by  money,  left  it  entirely  with  them- 
selves to  determine  the  amount  of  their  award. 

"  The  liberal  and  courteous  spirit,"  say  the  commit- 


38  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [184& 

tee,  in  a  letter  of  April  4,  1848,  from  which  I  quote, 
"  in  which  you,  last  summer,  gave  permission  to  enter 
on  your  lands  to  commence  the  construction  of  the 
road,  and  in  which  the  committee  have  uniformly  been 
met  by  you  in  the  discharge  of  their  unpleasant  duties, 
has  been  quite  a  solace  to  them  amidst  the  many  cases 
of  a  contrary  character  which  have  occurred.  It  is  the 
more  worthy  of  remark,  as,  in  their  view,  you  are 
more  seriously  invaded  by  this  necessary  work,  in  re- 
spect to  derangement  of  rural  taste  and  retirement, 
than  is  any  other  proprietor  on  the  whole  line  of  the 
road  below  the  Highlands." 

In  adjustment  of  these  land  damages,  the  railroad 
company  paid  him  thirty -five  hundred  dollars.  On 
the  receipt  of  the  first  payment,  he  remarked  wittily  : 
"  Why,  I  am  harder  on  them  than  the  wagoner  was 
on  Giles  Gingerbread ;  for  he  let  him  walk  all  the  way 
to  London  alongside  of  his  wagon  without  charging 
him  anything,  while  I  make  them  pay  for  only  passing 
my  door." 

The  Mr.  Putnam  mentioned  in  this  further  extract 
from  the  same  letter  of  April  10,  is  the  well-known 
publisher,  George  P.  Putnam,  who  had  dissolved  with 
his  partner,  John  Wiley,  at  the  close  of  the  preceding 
year.  John  Jacob  Astor,  to  whose  vast  estate  Mr. 
Irving  was  named  in  his  will  as  one  of  the  executors, 
had  died  on  the  29th  of  March. 

I  am  now  negotiating  an  arrangement  with  Mr.  Putnam  for 


Mt.  65.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  39 

the  republication  of  my  works,  which  promises  to  be  a  very- 
satisfactory  one ;  and  I  am  attending  preliminary  meetings  of 
the  board  of  executors  of  Mr.  Astor's  estate.  All  these  things 
detain  me  in  town,  and  may  oblige  me  hereafter  to  visit  town 
frequently. 

****** 
I  trust  the  men  are  widening  and  cleaning  out  the  side- 
walks.    I  shall  send  or  bring  up  some  seed  or  young  plants  of 
running  vines  for  the  porch  by  the  front  of  the  house — yearly 
plants,  to  serve  while  the  roses  are  growing. 

The  following  letter,  addressed  to  James  H.  Hack- 
ett,  the  popular  comedian,  and  one  of  the  best  Falstaffs 
known  to  the  stage,  was  written  on  returning  to  him  a 
portion  of  his  manuscript  Notes  and  Criticisms  on 
Shakspeare  and  Actors  of  Shakspeare,  published  entire 
many  years  afterward : 

New  York,  April  17, 1848. 

My  dear  Sir  : 

I  have  detained  your  manuscript  notes  an  unconscionable 
time,  but  I  could  not  help  it.  I  wished  to  read  them  atten- 
tively, for  they  are  remarkably  suggestive,  and  not  to  be  read 
in  a  hurry  ;  but  for  the  last  two  or  three  months,  spent  among 
my  friends  and  relatives  in  my  native  city  after  an  absence  of 
several  years,  I  have  been  kept  in  such  a  round  of  engage- 
ments, and  such  constant  excitement,  that  I  have  only  now  and 
then  been  able  to  command  a  little  leisure  and  quiet  for  reading 
and  reflection.  At  such  moments  I  have  perused  your  manu- 
scripts by  piecemeal,  and  now  return  you  my  many  thanks  for 
the  great  pleasure  they  have  afforded  me.     I  will  not  pretend 


40  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1848. 

to  enter  at  present  into  any  discussion  of  the  topics  they  em- 
brace, for  I  have  not  sufficient  faith  in  my  critical  acumen  to 
commit  my  thoughts  to  paper ;  but  when  I  have  the  pleasure 
of  meeting  with  you  personally,  we  will  talk  over  these  mat- 
ters as  largely  as  you  please.  I  have  seen  all  the  leading 
characters  of  Shakspeare  played  by  the  best  actors  in  America 
and  England  during  the  present  century ;  some  of  them,  too, 
admirably  performed  in  Germany.  I  have  heard  some  of  them 
chanted  in  the  Italian  opera,  and  I  have  seen  the  ballet  of 
"  Hamlet  "  gravely  danced  at  Vienna.  Yet,  with  all  this  ex- 
perience, I  feel  that  I  am  an  amateur  rather  than  a  connoisseur ; 
prone  to  receive  great  pleasure  without  nicely  analyzing  the 
source,  and  sometimes  apt  to  clap  my  hands  when  grave  critics 
shake  their  heads. 

Excuse  this  scrawl,  written  in  a  hurried  moment,  and  be- 
lieve me,  with  great  respect  and  regard,  your  obliged  friend 
and  servant, 

"Washington  Irving. 

The  agreement  with  Mr.  George  P.  Putnam,  by 
which  Mr.  Irving  was  to  prepare  revised  copies  of  all 
his  works  for  publication,  bears  date  July  26,  1848. 
By  this  arrangement,  which  was  to  continue  for  five 
years,  Mr.  Putnam  was  to  have  the  exclusive  right  of 
publishing  his  already  published  works  and  writings  in 
uniform  duodecimo  volumes,  until  the  whole  series  was 
completed,  at  such  intervals  as  the  publisher  might  find 
most  for  the  mutual  interest  of  the  parties.  He  had 
the  right  also  to  publish  one  or  more  of  the  works  in  a 
larger  size,  and  illustrated.     Mr.  Putnam  was  to  be  at 


JEr.  65.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  41 

the  whole  charge  of  publication,  "  including  all  the 
expenses  thereto  incident,"  and  was  to  pay  Mr.  Irving 
twelve  and  a  half  per  cent,  on  the  retail  price  of  all 
the  copies  sold.  The  accounts  of  sales  were  to  be  bal- 
anced at  the  end  of  every  year,  commencing  with  July, 
1849  ;  and  the  author  was  to  receive,  in  notes  at  four 
months,  the  amount  accruing  to  him  at  the  above  rate  ; 
but,  in  anticipation  of  such  general  adjustment,  Mr. 
Putnam  agreed  to  pay  him,  in  quarterly  payments,  one 
thousand  dollars  for  the  first  year,  fifteen  hundred  for 
the  second,  and  two  thousand  for  the  third,  fourth,  and 
fifth  years  ;  all  of  which  payments  were  to  be  made  on 
account  of  the  percentage  above  specified,  in  the  con- 
fident expectation  of  the  publisher  that  the  year's  re- 
ceipts would  overrun  the  amount  advanced,  and  that 
the  author  would  have  a  surplus  to  receive  at  the  stated 
period  of  settlement.  In  case  of  a  disappointment  in 
this  particular,  and  that  the  percentage  within  the  year 
should  not  amount  to  the  sum  or  sums  advanced,  the 
author  was  not  to  be  called  upon  to  refund  any  part  of 
the  advance.  In  other  words,  by  this  agreement,  Mr. 
Putnam  was  answerable  for  the  payment  of  eight  thou- 
sand five  hundred  dollars — the  sum  provided  for  in  the 
several  annual  advances — whatever  be  the  amount  of 
the  percentage ;  but  whenever  this  guarantee  of  eight 
thousand  five  hundred  dollars  should  be  covered  by  the 
gross  amount  of  profits  received  by  Mr.  Irving,  the  ad- 
vances were  to  cease  ;  or,  if  continued  at  the  stipulated 
rate,  and  at  the  annual  settlement  it  should  appear  that 


4-2  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1843. 

they  had  overrun  the  percentage,  the  author  was  to 
refund  the  difference. 

The  arrangement  redounded  to  the  advantage  of 
both. 

On  the  18th  of  August,  during  a  holiday  visit  I  was 
making  at  Sunnyside,  Mr.  Irving  brought  to  the  cot- 
tage, from  the  city,  a  copy  of  the  revised  edition  of 
Knickerbocker's  History  of  New  York,  printed,  and  to 
be  published  on  the  1st  of  September.  I  turned  over 
the  pages,  and  observed  to  him  that  there  appeared  to 
be  considerable  additions  besides  the  Author's  Apol- 
ogy, which  he  had  written  expressly  for  this  new  edi- 
tion. He  replied  that  he  had  made  some  changes,  and, 
he  hoped,  improvements ;  thought  that  he  had  mel- 
lowed and  softened  a  good  deal  that  was  overcharged  ; 
had  chastened  the  exaggerated  humor  of  some  portions 
— the  effect  of  age  and  improved  taste  combined  ;  and 
tempered  the  rawness  of  other  parts  without  losing  any 
of  the  raciness.  If  he  had  the  work  to  write  anew,  he 
thought  he  could  have  brought  out  many  things  in  a 
finer  and  higher  vein  of  humor  ;  but  some  of  the  jokes 
had  got  so  implanted,  he  was  afraid  to  disturb  them. 

The  undertaking  of  Mr.  Putnam  was  greeted  with 
a  cordial  welcome  by  many  of  our  literary  luminaries. 
"  A  new  edition  of  Washington  Irving's  works,"  writes 
the  polished  essayist,  H.  T.  Tuckerman,  on  the  first 
putting  forth  of  Knickerbocker,  "  has  long  been  in  con- 
templation ;  but  perhaps  it  is  not  so  generally  known, 
that  the  writings  of  this  elegant  pioneer  of  American 


JEt.  65.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  43 

literature  have  long  been  out  of  print  in  his  own  coun- 
try. A  stray  volume  or  two  of  the  cheap  Philadelphia 
edition,  wholly  unfit  to  grace  a  library  shelf,  or  the 
bulky  octavo  published  in  Paris,  may  occasionally  be 
encountered  ;  but,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  a  complete, 
readable,  and  authorized  edition  of  '  Geoffrey  Crayon' 
has  long  been  a  desideratum.  Since  the  dawn  of  his 
popularity,  thousands  of  a  new. generation  have  sprang 
up  in  the  far  "West,  and  along  the  Atlantic,  who  know 
this  ornament  to  their  country's  genius  only  by  frag- 
ments, and  from  the  voice  of  renown.  Accordingly, 
the  enterprise  of  Mr.  Putnam  was  not  only  required 
as  a  convenience,  but  almost  as  a  necessity.  *  *  * 
The  series  is  very  appropriately  commenced  with 
'  Knickerbocker's  New  York  ' — one  of  the  most  origi- 
nal and  elaborate  pieces  of  humor  to  which  our  lan- 
guage has  given  birth." 

Another  unknown  but  evidently  practised  pen, 
after  descanting  on  the  beauty  of  the  volume  in  its 
type  and  finish,  remarks  : 

If  any  works  of  our  language  are  worthy  of  such  choice 
embalming,  and  such  an  honored  place  in  all  libraries  as  these 
volumes  are  destined  to  fill,  it  is  those  of  "Washington  Irving. 
Their  quaint  and  exhaustless  humor,  rich,  graceful,  and  exuber- 
ant fancy,  and  the  pure  and  natural  vein  of  feeling,  deepening 
into  pathos,  which  runs  through  them,  make  them,  in  an  emi- 
nent sense,  household  works — works  to  be  read  by  the  winter 
fireside,  or  in  the  calm  of  summer  twilight,  always  cheering 
and  soothing  in  their  influence,  and  conveying  strengthening 


44  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1848. 

and  instructive  lessons  in  a  form  which  the  mind  is  always 
ready  to  receive.  To  the  writings  of  Diedrich  Knickerbocker, 
especially,  may  be  applied  the  words  of  Sir  Philip  Sidney : 
"  He  cometh  to  you  with  a  tale  that  holdeth  children  from 
play,  and  old  men  from  the  chimney  corner." 

The  volume  before  us  has  been  thoroughly  revised,  and  now 
wears  the  final  form  in  which  posterity  will  receive  it.  Its  in- 
terest is  increased  by  a  curious  history  of  the  manner  in  which 
the  work  was  first  published.  The  adroitness  with  which  the 
public  was  prepared  for  the  appearance  of  the  book,  is  very 
amusing,  and  we  wonder  not  that  foreigners  should  have  been 
puzzled  in  what  manner  to  understand  it. 

It  is  an  amusing  fact  in  connection  with  this  allu- 
sion to  the  difficulty  of  foreigners  in  what  manner  to 
understand  Knickerbocker,  that  a  learned  German 
commentator,  in  some  notes  to  a  German  edition  of 
Thucydides,  has  a  grave  reference  to  Knickerbocker's 
History  of  the  old  factions  of  the  Long  Pipes  and 
Short  Pipes,  as  an  illustration  of  the  profound  remarks 
of  Thucydides  on  the  evils  arising  from  the  prevalence 
of  factions  throughout  Greece.  "  Laughable  as  this 
undoubtedly  is,"  writes  Tuckerman,  in  noticing  the 
fact,  "  it  is  probable  that  a  more  flattering  testimony 
was  never  borne  to  the  inimitable  skill  displayed  in 
every  page  of  Knickerbocker's  Historij  of  New  York. 
It  is  highly  amusing,  however,  to  think  of  the  utter 
mystification  and  bewilderment  in  which  Goeller  must 
have  been,  while  laboriously  perusing  the  soi-disant 
history,  and  endeavoring  to  treasure  up  in  his  memory 


Mt.  65.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  45 

the  well-authenticated  and  instructive  facts  with  which 
it  abounds."  * 

On  the  same  day  that  Mr.  Irving  brought  to  the 
cottage  this  first  volume  of  the  revised  edition  of  his 
works,  his  most  humorous  composition,  he  brought 
home  also  a  picture  which  had  strongly  touched  his 
religious  sensibilities.  This  was  Dupont's  engraving 
of  Ary  Schaeffer's  Christus  Consolator,  which  he  had 
recently  bought,  and  left  to  be  mounted  and  framed. 
The  engraving  first  caught  his  eye,  as  he  told  me,  in 
the  window  of  a  German  shop  in  Broadway,  and  he 
then  gazed  at  it  until  the  tears  gathered  in  his  eyes, 
without  knowing  whose  it  was.  Finding  it  was  from 
Schaeffer,  he  went  in  at  once  and  bought  it,  and 
ordered  it  to  be  framed.  After  tea  he  took  mallet  and 
chisel,  and  proceeded  to  unbox  it.  It  was  indeed  an 
exquisite  thing,  full  of  the  deepest  sentiment ;  and  as 
Mr.  Irving  continued  to  look  at  it,  the  tears  started 
again  to  his  eyes.  He  thought  he  had  never  seen  any- 
thing so  affecting — "  there  was  nothing  superior  to  it 
in  the  world  of  art;"  then  he  burst  out  into  an  ex- 
pression of  regret  at  not  having  seen  more  of  Schaeffer. 
He  had  met  him  at  Paris  on  his  last  visit  to  Europe,  at 
a  house  where  he  used  to  meet  Lamennais  and  others, 
and  had  been  urged  to  go  to  his  studio,  but  never  went. 
"  It  was  one  of  the  negligences  of  my  life." 

*  The  instance  occurs  in  Goeller's  Thucydides,  in  a  note  on  the  82d 
chapter  of  the  3d  book,  and  the  reference  is  to  Washington  Irving's  His- 
tory of  New  York,  lib.  vii,  cap.  5. 


4G  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1848. 

It  was  in  the  autumn  of  this  year  that  he  united 
himself  to  the  Episcopal  Church,  of  which  he  had 
never  before  been  a  member ;  and  he  was  no  doubt 
particularly  susceptible  at  this  period  to  the  emotions 
such  an  engraving  was  calculated  to  excite. 

I  give  a  few  specimens  from  the  literary  notices  of 
the  day,  to  show  the  unbroken  charm  of  the  Sketch 
Book,  and  the  cordial  welcome  it  received.  It  was  the 
second  volume  of  the  new  series,  and  was  published 
about  the  1st  of  October.  I  should  add,  that  the  inter- 
est of  the  volume  was  enhanced  by  a  preface,  which 
contained  a  narrative  of  the  circumstances  of  the  first 
publication  of  the  work. 

The  second  volume  of  Putnam's  elegant  edition  of  Irving 
is  before  us.  The  Sketch  Book,  purely  classic  and  beautiful  as 
is  its  language,  seems  to  read  even  more  refreshingly  in  the 
present  choice  getting  up.  It  is  needless  to  refer  to  the  work 
itself;  for  who  that  reads  at  all  has  failed  to  make  acquaint- 
ance with  its  pages?  The  exquisite  sketches  of  "The  "Wife," 
the  "  Broken  Heart,"  and  "  Rural  Funerals,"  have  been  an 
utterance  and  a  consolation  to  many  a  heart,  and  they  will  not 
soon  cease  their  mission.  "  Rip  Van  Winkle  "  and  the  "  Le- 
gend of  Sleepy  Hollow  "  have  taken  root  in  the  soil  which 
produced  them ;  and  the  graphic  papers  on  the  Christmas 
Festivities  of  England  have  been  adopted  as  part  of  the  records 
of  her  homes.  Few  single  works  have  attained  a  wider  reach 
of  influence,  or  a  more  enduring  fame. 

I  find  in  Bryant's  Evening  Post  of  October  13,  the 
following  notice  of  its  republication  : 


JEt.  65.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  47 

Washington  Trving's  name  is  uppermost  in  our  thoughts 
when  speaking  the  claims  or  recounting  the  successes  of  Ameri- 
can authorship.  He  has  had  the  homage  of  critics  on  both 
sides  of  the  Atlantic ;  the  cordial  praise  of  men  of  letters,  his 
contemporaries  and  colaborers ;  some  share  of  those  executive 
favors  which  are  rarely  accorded  as  tributes  to  literary  emi- 
nence ;  and  he  enjoys  a  reputation  dignified  by  the  union  of 
high  personal  character,  and  unmarred  by  any  of  those  personal 
jealousies  that  so  often  discredit  established  reputations,  or  that 
latter-day  mediocrity  that  threatens  them  with  final  bankruptcy. 
We  are  glad  to  find  him  devoting  part  of  the  leisure  of  Sunny- 
side  to  the  revision  of  his  works  for  their  uniform  publication. 
*  *  *  The  first  purchasers  of  this  volume  will  be,  if  we 
mistake  not,  those  who  have  read  it  oftenest.  Its  familiar 
papers  come  to  most  readers  with  the  charm  of  long  acquaint- 
ance ;  they  are  amongst  the  old  wine  in  their  stores  of  pleasant 
book  recollections.  Kip  Van  Winkle  and  Ichabod  Crane  are 
universal  heroes  ;  the  Widow  and  her  Son  have  made  their 
appeal  to  everybody's  sympathies ;  and  every  American  travel- 
ler in  England  divides  the  enjoyment  and  the  reminiscences  of 
his  pilgrimage  to  Stratford-on-Avon  between  Shakspeare  and 
Irving.     *     *     * 

Late  in  October  I  called  on  Mr.  Irving,  then  in 
New  York,  and  found  him  engaged  on  his  Life  of  Ma- 
homet, evidently  somewhat  fagged.  I  told  him  I  saw 
Putnam  had  advertised  its  appearance  for  the  1st  of 
January.  Yes,  he  said  ;  he  was  afraid  it  would  hurry 
him  to  get  ready ;  he  gave  him  a  negligent  answer, 
and  he  fixed  a  day.     Was  a  good  deal  bothered  in  his 


48  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1848. 

anxiety  to  finish  this  and  the  Life  of  Washington. 
Hoped  he  would  not  drop  in  harness.  I  told  him  the 
uniform  edition  was  doing  so  well,  he  could  afford  to 
take  his  ease,  and  not  to  drudge.  "  Yes,"  said  he ; 
"  but  I  know  my  nature.  I  must  get  through  with  the 
work  I  have  cut  out  for  myself.  I  must  weave  my 
web,  and  then  die." 

A  few  days  afterward,  the  third  of  the  series  of  the 
new  edition  of  his  works,  being  the  first  volume  of 
"  The  Life  and  Voyages  of  Columbus,"  made  its  ap- 
pearance ;  and  in  the  preface  the  author  took  occasion 
to  notice  the  accusation  that  he  had  not  given  suflicient 
credit  to  Don  Martin  Fernandez  de  Xavarrete  for  the 
aid  he  had  derived  from  his  collection  of  documents ; 
quoting,  in  refutation,  a  letter  of  Navarrete  himself, 
and  that  author's  own  words  also,  in  the  third  volume 
of  his  Collection  of  Spanish  Voyages. 

The  next  volume  of  the  revised  series — Bracebridge 
Hall — was  published  on  the  1st  of  December.  "  When 
we  consider,"  says  the  Evening  Post,  in  a  notice  of  its 
appearance,  "  that  in  Bracebridge  Hall  are  to  be  found 
Beady-Money  Jack  and  the  Stout  Gentleman,  as  ex- 
amples of  Irving's  comic  power,  and  Annette  Delarbre 
as  an  instance  of  his  command  over  the  gentler  emo- 
tions, we  are  tempted  to  ask  whether  he  has  done  any- 
thing better  than  his  Bracebridge  Hall." 

Four  volumes  of  the  revised  series  were  now  pub- 
lished, and  the  sale,  for  books  that  were  not  new,  was 
unprecedented.     By  many,  the  enterprise   had   been 


Mi.  Co.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  49 

pronounced  a  rash  one  ;  but  the  reception  given  to 
these  volumes  by  the  public,  proved,  in  the  language 
of  another,  "  the  solidity  of  the  author's  reputation, 
and  seemed  like  a  recognition  of  his  works  as  an  abid- 
ing part  of  his  '  land's  language.'  " 

Forty  years  had  gone  by  since  Knickerbocker  was 
first  introduced  to  the  public ;  and  thirty  years  had 
wellnigh  passed  away  since,  in  his  original  preface  to 
the  first  number  of  the  Sketch  Book,  he  wrote  : 

The  following  writings  are  published  on  experiment. 
Should  they  please,  they  may  be  followed  by  others.  *  *  * 
Should  his  exertions  be  well  received,  the  author  cannot  con- 
ceal that  it  would  be  a  source  of  the  purest  gratification ;  for, 
though  he  does  not  aspire  to  those  high  honors  which  are  the 
rewards  of  loftier  intellects,  yet  it  is  the  dearest  wish  of  his 
heart  to  have  a  secure  and  cherished,  though  humble  corner,  in 
the  good  opinions  and  kind  feelings  of  his  countrymen. 

"  Little  did  he  then  anticipate,"  says  an  anonymous 
contemporary,  in  quoting  this  passage,  "  that  the  Gospel 
annunciation,  *  He  that  humbleth  himself  shall  be  ex- 
alted,' would  be  so  fully  verified  in  his  case  ;  that  the 
'  high  honors '  to  which  he  did  not  aspire,  would  be  ac- 
corded to  him  of  right ;  and  that  the  l  humble  corner  ' 
he  coveted  in  the  affections  of  his  countrymen,  should 
prove  to  be  the  most  favored  spot." 

Vol.  IV.— 3  (4) 


50  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1848. 


CHAPTEE    III. 

TTNPRECEDENTED  SALE  OP  REVISED  EDITION  OF  THE  SKETCH  BOOK — ENGAGED 
UPON  A  LIFE  OF  GOLDSMITH — ITS  PUBLICATION — RIPLEY'S  NOTICE — CRITIQUE 
OF  GEORGE  W.  GREENE — APPEARANCE  OF  MAHOMET  AND  HIS  SUCCESSORS — 
THE  REVISED  ALHAMBRA  AND  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA — ANXIETY  TO  BEGIN 
ANEW   ON   LIFE  OF   WASHINGTON. 

T  1  iHIS  year  opened  most  encouragingly.  The  issue 
-*-  of  the  seventh  thousand  of  the  Sketch.  Book  was 
advertised  on  or  about  the  1st  of  February,  less  than 
four  months  after  its  republication,  and  Putnam  gave 
the  most  flattering  reports  of  the  manner  in  which  the 
illustrated  edition  had  gone  off  during  the  holidays. 
The  profits  of  this  last  named  edition  were  mainly  the 
publisher's,  Mr.  Irving  being  at  no  expense  for  the 
embellishments,  receiving  merely  the  twelve  and  a 
half  per  cent,  on  the  retail  price  of  so  many  ordinary 
copies.  All  the  illustrated  editions  of  his  works  were 
got  up  exclusively  by  his  publisher. 

Bracebridge  Hall,  the  author's  last  monthly  publi- 
cation, was  followed  in  January  by  the  second  volume 
of  the  Life  and  Voyages  of  Columbus,  and  in  Febru- 
ary by  volume  third,  including  the  Companions  of  Co- 
lumbus.    The  Tales  of  a  Traveller  were  brought  out  in 


JB.T.  66.]  OF  WASHINGTON   IRVING.  51 

March,  Astoria  in  April,  and  the  Crayon  Miscellany  in 
May. 

In  noticing  the  appearance  of  this  last,  which  com- 
prised the  Tour  on  the  Prairies,  Abbotsford,  and  New- 
stead  Abbey,  the  editor  of  the  Literary  World  re- 
marks : 

The  author's  "  Astoria,"  the  last  monthly  publication  of  the 
series,  has,  from  its  timely  issue,  when  men's  eyes  are  directed 
to  the  "  California  Trail,"  met  with  the  most  distinguished  suc- 
cess. It  is  appropriately  followed  by  the  Tour  to  the  Prairies, 
included  in  the  present  volume.  The  next,  we  understand,  will 
be  a  republication  of  Captain  Bonneville's  Adventures,  which 
will  complete  the  volumes  through  which  Irving  has  so  happily 
connected  his  name  with  the  History  of  the  Great  "West.  The 
charm  of  the  Tour  to  the  Prairies  is  its  unique,  finished  charac- 
ter. It  is  a  little  episode  of  the  author's  life,  in  which  he  has 
condensed  the  sentiment  and  fresh  spirit  of  adventure  conse- 
quent on  his  return  to  American  life,  after  long  familiarity  with 
the  over-cultivation  of  Europe.  It  will  probably  be  read  as 
long  as  any  of  his  writings.  The  Sketch  of  Abbotsford  and 
its  Master  is  one  of  the  most  gra«eful  and  truthful  of  the  many 
reminiscences  of  Scott.  How  admirably  the  character  of  Sir 
Walter's  conversation  is  conveyed  in  a  line — "  The  conversa- 
tion of  Scott  was  frank,  hearty,  picturesque,  and  dramatic." 
The  anecdotes  and  traits  of  the  great  Master,  charmingly  told 
in  this  narrative,  are  all  to  the  point.  The  paper  which  con- 
cludes this  volume  of  the  Miscellany  on  Newstead  Abbey,  re- 
minds us  of  the  best  of  the  Sketch  Book  or  Bracebridge  Hall. 


52  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [.1849. 

Of  The  Adventures  of  Captain  Bonneville,  the 
next  in  the  series  of  Mr.  Irving's  collected  works,  a 
cotemporary  remarks : 

This  book  loses  none  of  its  freshness  or  interest  with  the 
lapse  of  years.  The  contrast  between  the  polished,  luxuriant 
style  of  its  composition,  and  the  wild,  daring  adventures  of 
forest  life  which  it  describes,  gives  it  a  peculiar  charm,  and  leads 
many  to  prefer  it  to  the  more  universally  admired  productions 
of  its  popular  author. 

On  the  5th  of  Jnly,  soon  after  a  return  from  a 
short  visit  to  his  niece  on  Cayuga  Lake,  Mr.  Irving 
writes  to  Mrs.  Storrow  as  follows  : 

For  upward  of  a  year  past  I  have  been  very  much  from 
home,  obliged  to  be  for  the  most  of  the  time  in  the  city,  super- 
intending the  publication  of  a  new  and  revised  edition  of  my 
works,  making  researches  for  other  works  on  which  I  am  em- 
ployed, and  attending  to  the  settlement  of  Mr.  Astor's  estate, 
and  the  organization  of  the  Astor  Library.  Altogether,  I 
have  had  more  toil  of  head  and  fagging  of  the  pen  for  the  last 
eighteen  months,  than  in  any  other  period  of  my  life,  and  have 
been  once  or  twice  fearful  my  health  might  become  deranged, 
but  it  has  held  out  marvellously ;  and  now  I  hope  to  be  able  to 
ease  off  in  my  toils,  and  to  pass  my  time  at  home  as  usual. 

In  the  succeeding  month,  he  received  from  the 
Astor  estate,  here  mentioned,  his  share  of  the  commis- 
sions devolving  upon  the  executors,  amounting  to  ten 
thousand  five  hundred   and   ninety-two    dollars    and 


J*r.  66.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  53 

sixty-six  cents.  It  was  shortly  before  this  that  he 
called  at  my  office,  and,  speaking  of  his  fagging  at  the 
Life  of  Goldsmith,  two  or  three  chapters  of  which  he 
had  still  to  write,  said  it  had  taken  more  time  than  he 
could  afford — had  plucked  the  heart  out  of  his  sum- 
mer ;  and  after  all  he  could  only  play  with  the  subject. 
He  had  no  time  to  finish  it  off  as  he  wished. 

He  had  now  published  all  but  two  of  the  revised 
edition  of  his  works — The  Chronicles  of  Granada  and 
The  Alhambra — and  had  intermitted  the  continuation 
of  the  series  and  his  Life  of  Washington,  to  take  up 
the  Life  of  Goldsmith.  It  was  a  sudden  literary  freak, 
similar  to  that  which  had  induced  him,  when  first  in 
Spain,  to  break  off  from  Columbus  to  begin  the 
Chronicles  of  Granada,  and  had  subsequently  drawn 
him  aside  to  his  Moorish  Chronicles. 

His  publisher,  Mr.  Putnam,  in  his  Recollections  of 
Irving,  communicated  to  the  Atlantic  Magazine  in 
November,  1860,  has  the  following  glimpse  at  its 
origin : 

Sitting  at  my  desk,  one  day,  he  was  looking  at  Forster's 
clever  work,  which  I  proposed  to  reprint.  He  remarked  that 
it  was  a  favorite  theme  of  his,  and  he  had  half  a  mind  to  pur- 
sue it,  and  extend  into  a  volume  a  sketch  he  had  once  made  for 
an  edition  of  Goldsmith's  Works.  I  expressed  a  hope  that  he 
would  do  so  ;  and  within  sixty  days  the  first  sheets  of  Irving's 
"  Goldsmith  "  were  in  the  printer's  hands.  The  press  (as  he 
says)  was  M  dogging  at  his  heels,"  for  in  two  or  three  weeks 
the  volume  was  published. 


£4.  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1849. 

I  was  on  a  visit  to  the  cottage  when  it  came  out, 
and,  reading  it  at  once,  expressed  to  him  my  satisfac- 
tion with  the  work.  He  replied  that  he  had  been 
afraid  to  look  at  it  since  it  was  brought  up,  for  lie  had 
never  written  anything  in  such  a  hurry.  He  wanted 
more  time  for  it,  and  did  not  know  but  that  his  talents 
might  be  nagging.  "  Are  you  sure  it  does  not  smell 
of  the  apoplexy  ?  "  he  inquired,  in  playful  allusion  to 
Gil  Bias  and  the  Archbishop  of  Granada. 

A  few  days  after,  Mr.  Irving  received  a  note  from 
Mr.  George  Bipley,  at  the  head  of  the  literary  depart- 
ment of  the  New  York  Tribune,  and  more  widely 
known  of  late  years  as  one  of  the  editors  of  the  New 
American  Cyclopaedia,  enclosing  the  following  cordial 
and  animated  notice : 

Everything  combines  to  make  this  one  of  the  most  fasci- 
nating pieces  of  biography  in  the  English  language.  Enough 
is  known  of  the  personal  history  and  character  of  Goldsmith, 
to  tempt  us  to  recur  to  the  subject  with  fresh  interest ;  but  he 
has  not  been  so  bandied  about  by  life-writers  and  reviewers  as 
to  satiate  curiosity.  The  simplicity,  and  even  the  weaknesses 
of  his  nature,  call  forth  a  feeling  of  affection ;  and  the  charm 
of  his  writings,  so  unaffected,  so  naive,  so  transparent  in  their 
crystal  purity  of  expression,  attracts  us  to  a  more  intimate  ac- 
quaintance with  the  author.  Mr.  Irving  was  in  possession  of 
abundant  materials  to  do  justice  to  the  subject.  He  had  only 
to  insert  his  exquisite  magnetic  needle  into  the  mass,  to  give  a 
choice  and  shapely  form  to  all  that  was  valuable  in  the  labors 
of  previous  biographers.     He  has  done  this  in  a  manner  which 


JSa.  66.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  55 

leaves  nothing  to  be  desired.  With  a  genial  admiration  of 
Goldsmith,  with  a  cordial  appreciation  of  the  spirit  of  his 
writings,  and  with  many  similar  intellectual  tendencies,  he  has 
portrayed  the  varied  picture  of  his  life  with  a  grace  and  ele- 
gance that  make  his  narrative  as  charming  a  piece  of  composi- 
tion as  can  be  found  in  the  whole  range  of  his  former  works. 
He  has  added  a  new  enchantment  to  the  potent  spell  with 
which  he  always  binds  the  hearts  of  his  readers.  *  *  * 
He  has  performed  this  task  with  a  facile  excellence  peculiar  to 
himself;  and  henceforth  the  two  names  of  Irving  and  Gold- 
smith will  be  united  in  the  recollection  of  the  delightful  hours 
which  each  has  given  to  such  a  host  of  "  happy  human 
beings."  There  could  not  be  a  more  admirable  description  of 
the  influence  of  his  own  writings,  than  Mr.  Irving  has  given  in 
his  opening  paragraph  on  Goldsmith.  "We  will  not  forego  the 
pleasure  of  quoting  it  entire.  "  There  are  few  writers  for 
whom  the  reader  feels  such  personal  kindness  as  for  Oliver 
Goldsmith,  for  few  have  so  eminently  possessed  the  magic  gift 
of  identifying  themselves  with  their  writings.  We  read  his 
character  in  every  page,  and  grow  into  familiar  intimacy  with 
him  as  we  read.  The  artless  benevolence  that  beams  through- 
out  his  works  ;  the  whimsical,  yet  amiable  views  of  human  life 
and  human  nature ;  the  unforced  humor,  blending  so  .happily 
with  good  feeling  and  good  sense,  and  singularly  dashed,  at 
times,  with  a  pleasing  melancholy ;  even  the  very  nature  of  his 
mellow,  and  flowing,  and  softly-tinted  style,  all  seem  to  bespeak 
his  moral  as  well  as  his  intellectual  qualities,  and  make  us  love 
the  man  at  the  same  time  that  we  admire  the  author.  While 
the  productions  of  writers  of  loftier  pretension  and  more  sound- 
ing names  are  suffered  to  moulder  on  our  shelves,  those  of 
Goldsmith  are  cherished,  and  laid  in  our  bosoms.     We  do  not 


56  LIFE  AND   LETTERS  [1849. 

quote  them  with  ostentation,  but  they  mingle  with  our  minds, 
sweeten  our  tempers,  and  harmonize  our  thoughts ;  they  put  us 
in  good  humor  with  ourselves  and  with  the  world,  and,  in  so 
doing  they  make  us  happier  and  better  men." 

In  an  elaborate  critique  of  some  of  Mr.  Irvirjg's 
works,  contributed  to  the  Christian  Review  in  April, 
1850,  a  skilful  writer  and  ripe  scholar,  Prof.  George 
"W.  Greene,  holds  this  language  about  the  Life  of  Gold- 
smith : 

If  there  is  anybody  of  whom  it  could  be  said  that  it  was 
his  duty  to  write  a  Life  of  Goldsmith,  it  is  "Washington  Irving  ; 
and,  often  as  we  have  had  occasion  to  thank  him  for  happy 
hours,  we  do  not  know  that  we  ever  felt  so  grateful  to  him  for 
anything  as  for  this.  We  have  always  loved  Goldsmith,  his 
poetry  and  his  prose,  and  everything  about  him.  There  is  not 
a  poem  in  the  language  that  we  can  go  back  to  with  the  same 
zest  with  which  we  open  the  Traveller  or  the  Deserted  Village 
for  the  five  hundredth  time  ;  and  we  can  never  get  through  a 
ten  minutes'  speech  without  quoting  the  Vicar  of  Wakefield. 
And  yet  we  must  say  frankly,  that  we  never  understood  Gold- 
smith's character  until  now.  We  have  been  vexed  at  his 
weakness,  and  have  blushed  at  his  blunders.  We  had  always 
wished  he  could  have  thrown  off  his  brogue,  and  had  never  put 
on  his  bloom-colored  coat.  That  he  should  not  have  known 
how  to  keep  his  money,  was  not  very  wonderful — it  is  a  pro- 
fessional weakness ;  but  he  might  at  any  rate  have  thrown  it 
away  in  better  company.  We  have  been  more  than  once 
sorely  troubled,  too,  by  sundry  little  slips  that  savored  some- 
what of  moral  obliquity,  and  never  been  able  to  reconcile  the 


-<Et.  66.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  57 

elevation  of  his  intellect  with  acts  that  far  less  rigorous  judges 
than  we  have  characterized  as  mean  and  degrading.  In  short, 
with  all  our  contempt  for  Boswell,  we  have  been  fairly  Bos- 
wellized,  and,  much  as  we  loved  Goldsmith,  loved  him  some- 
what in  despite  of  what  we  thought  our  better  judgment. 

Thanks  to  Mr.  Irving,  our  doubts  have  all  been  solved,  and 
we  can  love  the  kind,  simple-hearted,  genial  man  with  as  much 
confidence  as  we  admire  his  writings.  This  overflowing  of  the 
heart,  this  true  philosophy,  so  interwoven  with  his  whole  na- 
ture, that,  whether  he  acts  or  speaks,  you  find  it  as  strongly 
marked  in  his  actions  as  in  his  language ;  that  quick  sensibility, 
which  makes  him  so  keenly  alive  to  all  the  petty  annoyances 
of  his  dependent  position,  and  that  buoyancy  of  spirit  which 
raises  him  above  them,  and  bears  him  up  on  the  wave  while 
many  a  stouter  heart  is  sinking  around  him  ;  those  ready  sym- 
pathies, that  self-forgetfulness,  that  innate,  unprompted,  sponta- 
neous philanthropy,  which,  in  the  days  of  his  prosperity  as 
well  as  in  his  days  of  trial,  was  never  belied  by  word  or  by 
deed — all  these  we  understand  as  we  never  understood  them 
before,  and  feel  how  rare  and  beautiful  they  are.  He  was  not 
wise  in  his  own  concerns,  and  yet  what  treasures  of  wisdom 
has  he  not  bequeathed  to  the  world  !  Artless  as  an  infant,  yet 
how  deeply  read  in  human  nature  ;  with  all  his  feelings  upon 
the  surface,  ruffled  by  every  breeze  and  glowing  in  every  sun- 
beam, and  yet  how  skilled  in  all  the  secret  windings  of  the 
heart.  None  but  a  man  of  genial  nature  should  ever  attempt 
to  write  the  Life  of  Goldsmith :  one  who  knows  how  much 
wisdom  can  be  extracted  from  folly  ;  how  much  better  for  the 
heart  it  is  to  trust  than  to  doubt ;  how  much  nobler  is  a  gener- 
ous impulse  than  a  cautious  reserve ;  how  much  truer  a  wis- 
Vol.  IV.— 3* 


58  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1849. 

dom  there  is  in  benevolence,  than  in  all  the  shrewd  devices  of 
worldly  craft. 

Now  Mr.  Irving  is  just  the  man  to  feel  all  this,  and  to 
make  you  feel  it  too.  He  sees  how  weak  Goldsmith  is  in 
many  things,  how  wise  in  others,  and  he  sees  how  closely  his 
wisdom  and  his  weakness  are  allied.  There  is  no  condescen- 
sion in  his  pity,  none  of  that  parade  which  often  makes  pity 
tenfold  more  bitter  than  the  sufferings  which  call  it  forth.  He 
tells  you  the  story  of  his  hero's  errors  as  freely  as  he  does  that 
of  his  virtues,  and  in  a  way  to  make  you  feel  that  a  man  may 
have  many  a  human  weakness  lie  heavy  at  his  door,  and  yef 
be  worthy  of  our  love  and  admiration  still.  He  has  no  desire 
to  conceal,  makes  no  attempt  to  palliate.  He  understands  his 
hero's  character  thoroughly,  and  feels  that  if  he  can  only  make 
you  understand  it,  you  will  love  him  as  much  as  he  does. 
Therefore  he  draws  him  just  as  he  is,  lights  and  shadows,  vir- 
tues and  foibles — vices  you  cannot  call  them,  be  you  never  so 
unkind.  At  his  blunders  he  laughs,  just  as  Goldsmith  himself 
used  to  laugh  in  recounting  them ;  and  he  feels  the  secret  of 
his  virtues  too  justly  to  attempt  to  gild  them  over  with  useless 
embellishment. 

Speaking  to  Mr.  Irving  of  this  biography  of  Gold- 
smith, soon  after  its  appearance,  I  asked  him  if  he  had 
introduced  any  anecdotes  not  in  Prior's  or  Forster's 
Life  of  him.  "  ISTo,"  playfully  ;  "  I  could  not  invent 
any  new  ones ;  but  I  have  altered  the  setting,  and 
have  introduced — not  in  their  biography — Madame 
Darblay's  anecdote  about  Boswell  and  Johnson,  which 
is  capital.      I  have  also  made  more  of  the  Jessamy 


JE.T.  66.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  59 

Bride,  by  adverting  to  the  dates  in  the  tailor's  bill, 
and  fixing  thereby  the  dates  of  certain  visits  to  her." 

Mr.  Irving,  it  will  be  remembered,  before  either 
Prior  or  Forster  entered  the  field,  had  sketched  a  Life 
of  Goldsmith,  to  accompany  a  Paris  edition  of  that 
author's  works.  This  sketch  was  subsequently  ampli- 
fied from  the  materials  brought  to  light  by  Prior,  and 
prefixed  to  some  American  selections  of  Goldsmith  for 
Harpers'  Family  Library.  It  was  now  expanded  into 
its  present  form  from  the  additions  of  Forster.  Of 
this  biography,  while  giving  full  credit  to  the  previous 
labors  of  Prior  and  Forster,  the  Literary  World  re- 
marks :  "  You  may  have  read  the  story  a  hundred 
'times,  but  you  will  read  it  again  as  a  new  thing  in 
this  Biography  of  Irving." 

On  the  19th  of  September,  I  stopped  in  at  Put- 
nam's, who  told  me  he  had  already  disposed  of  the  first 
edition  of  Goldsmith  of  2,500,  and  was  now  busy  on  a 
second  of  2,000.  I  wrote  to  Mi*.  Irving  to  that  effect, 
and  added  that  it  had  increased  his  publisher's  impa- 
tience for  the  appearance  of  Mahomet.  In  his  reply 
of  the  21st,  he  says : 

I  am  getting  on  very  -well,  but  am  not  yet  in  a  mood  to 
take  up  my  pen  ;  so  Mr.  Putnam  must  stay  his  stomach  with 
Goldsmith  a  little  longer.  I  suppose,  because  I  knocked  off 
that  work  in  such  an  offhand  manner,  he  thinks  it  a  very  easy 
matter  with  me  "  to  blow  up  a  dog." 

If  the  reader  should  not  see  the  point  of  this  quo- 


g0  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1849. 

tation,  lie  is  referred  to  the  preface  of  the  second  part 
of  Don  Quixote. 

It  was  some  months  after  this  that  I  mentioned  to 
him  an  article  I  had  been  reading  in  a  weekly  periodi- 
cal, in  which  the  writer,  evidently  alluding  to  his  pref- 
ace in  his  biography  of  Goldsmith,  styles  him,  in  an 
invidious  spirit,  "  a  self-acknowledged  imitator  of  that 
author."  At  the  close  of  that  preface,  the  reader  may 
remember  he  addresses  Goldsmith  in  the  language  of 
Dante's  apostrophe  to  Yirgil : 

"  Tu  se'  lo  mio  maestro,  e'l  mio  autore ; 
Tu  se'  solo  colui  da  cui  io  tolsi 
Lo  bello  stile  che  m'a  fatto  onore." 

Translated, 

Thou  art  my  master,  and  my  teacher  thou ; 
It  was  from  thee,  and  thee  alone,  I  took 
That  noble  style  for  which  men  honor  me. 

He  smiled  ;  said  he  meant  only  to  express  his  affec- 
tionate admiration  of  Goldsmith,  but  it  would  never 
do  for  an  author  to  acknowledge  anything.  Was  never 
conscious  of  an  attempt  to  write  after  any  model.  !N"o 
man  of  genius  ever  did.  From  his  earliest  attempts, 
everything  fell  naturally  from  him.  His  style,  he  be- 
lieved, was  as  much  his  own  as  though  Goldsmith  had 
never  written — as  much  his  own  as  his  voice. 

This  was  not  the  language  of  self-eulogy,  but  of 
quiet  self-vindication.     He  had  never  meant  to  warrant 


Mt.  66.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  (JJ. 

such  j>erversion  of  his  quotation,  any  more  than  Dante 
meant  to  confess  himself  an  imitator  of  Virgil.  There 
were  undoubtedly  qualities  of  style  as  well  as  mental 
and  moral  characteristics  in  which  he  resembled  both 
Goldsmith  and  Addison,  the  two  with  whom  he  is  most 
frequently  compared,  while  in  others  it  would  be  im- 
possible to  confound  them. 

The  first  volume  of  Mahomet  and  his  Successors, 
which  had  been  prematurely  advertised  for  the  begin- 
ning of  the  year,  appeared  at  its  close,  December  15, 
with  the  following  preface,  which  gives  a  succinct  his- 
tory of  the  origin  and  scope  of  the  work,  and  its  grad- 
ual and  intermitted  composition : 

Some  apology  may  seem  necessary  for  presenting  a  Life  of 
Mahomet  at  the  present  day,  when  no  new  fact  can  be  added 
to  those  already  known  concerning  him.  Many  years  since, 
during  a  residence  in  Madrid,  the  author  projected  a  series  of 
writings  illustrative  of  the  domination  of  the  Arabs  in  Spain. 
These  were  to  be  introduced  by  a  sketch  of  the  life  of  the 
founder  of  the  Islam  faith,  and  the  first  mover  of  Arabian  con- 
quest. Most  of  the  particulars  for  this  were  drawn  from  Span- 
ish sources,  and  from  Gagnier's  translation  of  the  Arabian  his- 
torian Abulfelda,  a  copy  of  which  the  author  found  in  the 
Jesuits'  Library  of  the  Convent  of  St.  Isidro,  at  Madrid. 

Not  having  followed  out,  in  its  extent,  the  literary  plan 
devised,  the  manuscript  Life  lay  neglected  among  the  author's 
papers  until  the  year  1831,  when  he  revised  and  enlarged  it  for 
the  Family  Library  of  Mr.  John  Murray.  Circumstances  pre- 
vented its  publication  at  the  time,  and  it  again  was  thrown 
aside  for  years. 


62  I^E  AND  LETTERS  [1849. 

During  his  last  residence  in  Spain,  the  author  beguiled  the 
tediousness  of  a  lingering  indisposition  by  again  revising  the 
manuscript,  profiting,  in  so  doing,  by  recent  lights  thrown  on 
the  subject  by  different  writers,  and  particularly  by  Dr.  Gustav 
Weil,  the  very  intelligent  and  learned  librarian  of  the  Univer- 
sity, of  Heidelberg,  to  whose  industrious  researches  and  able 
disquisitions  he  acknowledges  himself  greatly  indebted.* 

Such  is  the  origin  of  the  work  now  given  to  the  public ;  in 
which  the  author  lays  no  claim  to  novelty  of  fact,  nor  pro- 
fundity of  research.  It  still  bears  the  type  of  a  work  intended 
for  a  Family  Library ;  in  constructing  which,  the  whole  aim  of 
the  writer  has  been  to  digest  into  an  easy,  perspicuous,  and 
flowing  narrative,  the  admitted  facts  concerning  Mahomet,  to- 
gether with  such  legends  and  traditions  as  have  been  wrought 
into  the  whole  system  of  oriental  literature ;  and  at  the  same 
time  to  give  such  a  summary  of  his  faith  as  might  be  sufficient 
for  the  more  general  reader. 

In  April,  1850,  Mr.  Irving  gave  to  the  world  the 
second  volume  of  Mahomet  and  his  Successors,  which 
was  greeted  with  the  following  notice  from  the  same 
pen  which  heralded  the  appearance  of  his  Life  of 
Goldsmith : 

The  progress  of  the  Moslem  dominion,  from  the  death  of 
Mahomet  in  the  year  622,  to  the  invasion  of  Spain  in  710, 
forms  the  subject  of  the  present  elegant  volume.  During  this 
period  of  less  than  a  century,  the  Moslems  extended  their  do- 
minion over  the  wide  regions  of  Asia  and  Africa,  carried  their 

*  Mohammed  der  Prophet,  sein  Leben  und  seine  Lebre.  Stuttgart, 
1843.  


Mr.  66.]  OF  WASHINGTON   IRVING.  63 

conquests  in  one  direction  to  the  walls  of  Constantinople,  and 
in  another  to  the  farthest  limits  of  Mauritania,  and  trampled 
down  the  dynasties  which  once  held  universal  sway  in  the 
East.  "The  whole,"  says  Mr.  Irving,  "presents  a  striking 
instance  of  the  triumph  of  fanatic  enthusiasm  over  disciplined 
valor,  at  a  period  when  the  invention  of  firearms  had  not  re- 
duced war  to  a  matter  of  almost  arithmetical  calculation. 
There  is  also  an  air  of  wild  romance  about  many  of  the  events 
recorded  in  this  narrative,  owing  to  the  character  of  the  Arabs, 
and  their  fondness  for  stratagems,  daring  exploits,  and  individ- 
ual achievements  of  an  extravagant  nature."  Mr.  Irving  has 
not  felt  himself  bound  to  follow  the  example  of  the  most  cau- 
tious historians  in  suppressing  or  softening  down  these  romantic 
adventures,  but  has  interwoven  them  with  consummate  skill 
into  his  narrative,  and  has  thus  given  it  a  fresh  and  vigorous 
vitality,  in  unison  with  the  exciting  and  triumphant  career  of 
the  people  whom  he  describes. 

In  deciding  on  the  plan  of  his  work,  Mr.  Irving  disclaims 
all  pretensions  to  being  consulted  as  an  authority,  and  has 
attempted  only  to  present  a  digest  of  current  knowledge 
adapted  to  popular  use.  He  has  accordingly  adopted  a  form 
between  biography  and  chronicle,  admitting  of  personal  anec- 
dotes and  a  more  familiar  style  of  narrative  than  is  compatible 
with  the  severe  dignity  of  historical  composition.  "We  scarcely 
need  say,  that,  in  a  department  of  literary  effort  so  congenial 
to  the  studies  and  tastes  of  the  admirable  author,  we  find  the 
same  flowing  beauty  of  expression  and  felicitous  grouping  of 
individuals  and  events,  which  give  such  a  magic  charm  to 
every  production  of  his  honey-dropping  pen.  The  only  sen- 
tence which  we  regret  in  the  volume,  is  the  concluding  one, 
which  expresses  a  doubt  of  the  continuation  of  the  fascinating 


64-  EIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1849. 

narrative  to  its  natural  and  legitimate  close.  "  "Whether  it  will 
ever  be  our  lot  to  resume  this  theme,  to  cross  with  the  Moslem 
hosts  the  Straits  of  Hercules,  and  narrate  their  memorable  con- 
quest of  Gothic  Spain,  is  one  of  those  uncertainties  of  mortal 
life  and  aspirations  of  literary  zeal  which  beguile  us  with  agree- 
able dreams,  but  too  often  end  in  disappointment." 

The  Biography  of  Goldsmith,  and  the  two  volumes 
of  Mahomet  and  his  Successors,  were  added  to  the  list 
of  Mr.  Irving's  collected  works  while  the  publication 
of  the  revised  edition  was  yet  incomplete.  The  Al- 
hambra  followed  the  last  volume  of  Mahomet  and  his 
Successors,  in  May ;  and  the  Conquest  of  Granada, 
which  closed  the  series,  and  of  which  he  had  written 
some  new  chapters  from  new  lights,  appeared  in  the 
succeeding  summer.  The  publication  of  this  work  in 
a  revised  form,  seemed  to  revive  his  anxiety  to  com- 
plete the  two  manuscript  volumes  of  Moorish  Chroni- 
cles, mentioned  in  a  previous  chapter ;  while  at  the 
same  time  he  expressed  the  most  earnest  desire  to  begin 
anew  upon  his  Life  of  Washington,  which  had  been 
made  to  give  place  to  the  Life  of  Goldsmith,  and  the 
preparation  of  the  two  volumes  of  Mahomet  and  his 
Successors.  "  All  I  fear,"  was  once  his  language  to  me, 
"  is  to  fail  in  health,  and  fail  in  completing  this  work 
at  the  same  time.  If  I  can  only  live  to  finish  it,  I 
would  be  willing  to  die  the  next  moment.  I  think  I 
can  make  it  a  most  interesting  book — can  give  interest 
and  strength  to  many  points,  without  any  prostration 


Mt.  66.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  65 

of  historic  dignity.  If  I  had  only  ten  years  more  of* 
life !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  I  never  felt  more  able  to  write. 
I  might  not  conceive  as  I  did  in  earlier  days,  -when  I 
had  more  romance  of  feeling,  but  I  could  execute  with 
more  rapidity  and  freedom." 

Vol.  IV.— (5) 


(J6  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1850. 


CHAPTEK    IY. 

LETTERS  TO    GOUVERNEUR    KEMBLE — DURAND'S    PICTURE — THE    HORRORS  OF  THE 

STEAM    WHISTLE — LETTER   TO     GEORGE    TICKNOR THE   EMBOZADO LETTER  TO 

MRS.  STORROW — DEATH  OF   PRESIDENT   TATLOR — VISIT  TO  JAMES  K.  PAULDING 
— JENNY   LIND — LETTER  TO   MISS  HAMILTON — THE  AUTHOR'S  HEGIRA. 

rpHE  following  is  a  reply  of  Mr.  Irving  to  his 
-*-  friend  Kemble,  who  had  requested  him,  when  in 
town,  to  call  at  Durand's,  the  artist,  and  tell  him  what 
he  thought  of  a  landscape  he  had  some  idea  of  pur- 
chasing when  it  was  finished  : 

New  York,  Feb.  7, 1850. 

My  dear  Kemble  : 

I  have  called  with to  see  Durand's  picture,  and  we 

were  both  delighted  with  it.  It  is  beautiful — beautiful.  Such 
truth  of  detail  with  such  breadth ;  such  atmosphere,  such  har- 
mony, such  repose,  such  coloring.  The  group  of  trees  in  the 
foreground  is  admirable  ;  the  characters  of  the  trees  so  diversi- 
fied and  accurate  ;  the  texture  and  coloring  of  their  barks  ;  the 
peculiarities  of  their  foliage.  The  whole  picture  had  the  effect 
upon  me  of  a  delightful  piece  of  music.  I  think  it  would  be  a 
charming  addition  to  the  Jxemble  gallery. 

****** 

I  shall  avail  myself  of  the  railroad,  one  of  these  days,  to 


uEt.  66.J  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  67 

pay  you  the  visit  you  suggest ;  but  I  must  first  get  out  of  the 
clutches  of  the  printers. 

His  friend  had  informed  him  that  he  could  now  at 
any  time  take  the  railroad  at  New  York  at  four  p.  m., 
and  dine  with  him  at  Cold  Spring  at  six  ;  from  which 
it  would  appear  that  the  cars  were  passing  his  door. 
We  hear  no  complaint  from  him,  however,  until  he 
became  for  the  first  subjected  to  the  annoyance  of  the 
steam  whistle,  during  a  severe  fit  of  illness  from  which 
he  was  just  recovering,  when  he  breaks  forth  as  fol- 
lows, in  a  letter  to  Gouverneur  Kemble,  one  of  the 
directors  of  the  company  : 

Sunntside,  Aug.  7,  1850. 

My  dear  Kemble  : 

Excuse  my  not  answering  sooner  your  kind  letter.  It 
found  me  in  a  terrible  state  of  shattered  nerves ;  having  been 
startled  out  of  my  first  sleep  at  midnight,  on  Saturday  night 
last,  by  the  infernal  alarum  of  your  railroad  steam  trumpet. 
It  left  me  in  a  deplorable  state  of  nervous  agitation  for  upward 
of  an  hour.  I  remained  sleepless  until  daybreak,  and  miser- 
able all  the  following  day.  It  seemed  to  me  almost  as  if  done 
on  purpose,  for  the  trains  had  ceased  for  several  days  to  make 
their  diabolical  blasts  opposite  my  bouse.  They  have  not  mo- 
lested me  in  this  way  since,  and  have  clearly  shown,  by  the 
cautious  and  tempered  management  of  their  whistle,  that  these 
unearthly  yells  and  howls  and  screams,  indulged  in  for  a  mile 
on  a  stretcb,  and  destructive  to  the  quiet  of  whole  neighbor- 
hoods, are  carried  to  an  unnecessary  and  unwarrantable  excess. 
They  form  one  of  the  greatest  nuisances  attending  railroads, 


68  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1850. 

and  I  am  surprised  that,  in  the  present  state  of  mechanical  art, 
some  signal  less  coarse  and  brutal  could  not  be  devised. 

You  will  laugh  at  all  this ;  but  to  have  one's  family  dis- 
turbed all  day,  and  startled  from  sleep  at  night  by  such  horrific 
sounds,  amounts  to  a  constant  calamity.  I  feel  obliged  to  the 
company  for  the  attention  that  has  been  paid  to  the  complaints 
made  in  this  instance,  and  I  trust  to  their  continuing  to  protect 
my  homestead  from  the  recurrence  of  such  an  evil. 

It  would  give  me  great  pleasure,  my  dear  Kemble,  to  come 
at  once  to  you ;  but  I  am  advised,  as  soon  as  I  have  sufficient 
strength  to  leave  home,  to  go  where  I  may  have  the  benefit  of 
a  complete  change  of  air.  I  intend,  therefore,  to  pay  a  visit  to 
my  niece,  Mrs.  Gabriel  Irving,  at  her  place  at  Oyster  Bay, 
where  I  shall  have  the  benefit  of  salt  air  and  sea  breezes.  My 
visit  to  you  I  shall  defer  until  I  feel  in  more  companionable 
trim. 

Ever,  my  dear  Kemble,  yours,  affectionately, 

"Washington  Irving. 

The  following  letter  is  addressed  to  the  eminent 
scholar,  George  Ticknor,  who  had  sent  him,  a  consider- 
able time  previous  to  its  date,  his  History  of  Spanish 
Literature,  a  work  in  three  octavo  volumes,  which  he 
had  early  meditated,  and  upon  which  he  had  been  long 
engaged.  Mr.  Ticknor,  in  the  autumn  of  1818,  had 
come,  from  a  residence  of  some  months  in  Spain,  to 
London,  and  here  he  formed  the  acquaintance  of  Mr. 
Irving,  Leslie,  and  Newton,  all  of  whom  made  the 
excursion  together  from  London  to  Windsor,  "  which 
resulted,"  says  Mr.  Ticknor,  in  a  letter  to  myself,  "  in 


Mi.  66.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  69 

the  beautiful  paper  in  the  Sketch  Book."  "  He  read  to 
me,"  he  continues  in  the  same  letter,  "  some  of  the 
other  papers,  and  I  brought  out  for  him  the  first  num- 
ber for  publication,  and  delivered  it  to  Mr.  Brevoort." 

[To  George  Ticknor.] 

Sttnnybide,  Feb.  15, 1860. 

My  dear  Ticknor  : 

I  ought  long  since  to  have  thanked  you  for  the  copy  of 
your  work  which  you  had  the  kindness  to  send  me,  but  I 
thought  it  best  to  read  it  first.  This  the  pressure  of  various 
affairs  has  permitted  me  to  do  only  at  intervals,  so  that  I  have 
not  yet  got  farther  than  the  threshold  of  the  third  volume  ;  but 
I  will  delay  an  acknowledgment  no  longer.  I  have  read 
enough  to  enable  me  to  praise  it  heartily  and  honestly.  It  is 
capital — capital !  It  takes  me  back  into  dear  old  Spain  ;  into 
its  libraries,  its  theatres ;  among  its  chronicles,  its  plays ; 
among  all  those  scenes  and  characters  and  customs  that  for 
years  were  my  study  and  delight.  No  one  that  has  not  been 
in  Spain  can  feel  half  the  merit  of  your  work ;  but  to  those 
who  have,  it  is  a  perpetual  banquet.  I  am  glad  you  have 
brought  it  out  during  my  lifetime,  for  it  will  be  a  vade  mecum 
for  the  rest  of  my  days.  "When  I  have  once  read  it  through,  I 
shall  keep  it  by  me,  like  a  Stilton  cheese,  to  give  a  dig  into 
whenever  I  want  a  relishing  morsel.  I  began  to  fear  it  would 
never  see  the  light  in  my  day,  or  that  it  might  fare  with  you 
as  with  that  good  lady  who  went  thirteen  years  with  child,  and 
then  brought  forth  a  little  old  man,  who  died  in  the  course  of  a 
month  of  extreme  old  age.  But  you  have  produced  three 
strapping  volumes,  full  of  life  and  freshness  and  vigor,  and  that 
will  live  forever.     You  have  laid  the  foundations  of  your  work 


70  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  |18§B 

so  deep  that  nothing  can  shake  it ;  you  have  built  it  up  with  a 
care  that  renders  it  reliable  in  all  its  parts ;  and  you  have  fin- 
ished it  off  with  a  grace  and  beauty  that  leave  nothing  to  be 
desired.     It  is  well  worth  a  lifetime  to  achieve  such  a  work. 

By  the  way,  as  you  appear  to  have  an  extensive  collection 
of  the  old  Spanish  plays,  there  is  one  which  Captain  Medwin 
mentioned  to  me,  the  story  of  which  had  made  a  great  impres- 
sion on  Lord  Byron.  It  was  called  El  Embozado  de  Cordova 
(or  perhaps  Encapotado).  I  have  sought  for  it  in  vain  in  all 
the  libraries  and  collections  in  Spain.  If  you  should  have  a 
copy  of  it,  let  me  know ;  though  I  apprehend  Captain  Medwin 
has  given  me  a  wrong  name,  as  I  could  find  none  of  the  dra- 
matic antiquaries  that  knew  anything  about  it. 

I  regret  that  you  did  not  fall  into  the  hands  of  my  worthy 
publisher,  Mr.  Putnam,  who  is  altogether  the  most  satisfactory 
man  in  his  line  that  I  have  ever  had  dealings  with.  But  I 
trust  you  have  made  a  good  arrangement  with  the  Harpers, 
who  command  a  vast  circulation. 

When  you  see  Prescott,  give  him  my  cordial  remembrances. 
You  two  are  shelved  together  for  immortality. 

Ever,  my  dear  Ticknor,  yours  very  faithfully, 

"Washington  Irving. 

The  "  old  Spanish  play  "  here  alluded  to  as  having 
been  mentioned  to  him  by  CaptaiD  Medwin,  and  which 
had  eluded  his  researches  in  Spain,  has  been  spoken  of 
in  a  quotation  from  his  diary,  heretofore  given,  as  a 
play  by  Calderon.  In  the  following  extract  of  a  letter 
to  his  brother  Peter,  written  from  Paris  in  March, 
1825, 1  furnish  a  glimpse  of  the  curious  plot,  and  all 


Mr.  66.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  7J 

the  light  I  can  throw  upon  the  subject  of  this  mysteri- 
ous drama,  here,  too,  spoken  of  as  a  production  of  Cal- 
deron : 

Medwin  is  in  Paris,  but  returns  almost  immediately  to  his 
nest.  *  *  *  I  find  he  is  well  acquainted  with  Calderon  in 
the  original,  and  has  talked  to  me  of  a  play  of  Calderon's 
which  is  rarely  to  be  found  in  the  edition  of  his  works,  but  of 
which  he  once  obtained  a  copy.  It  is  called  sometimes  El 
Embozado,  and  sometimes  El  Capitado  (».  e.,  The  man  muffled 
or  disguised).  The  story  is  of  a  young  man  who  has  been 
dogged  through  life  by  a  mysterious  masked  man ;  who 
thwarts  all  his  plans,  and  continually  crosses  his  path,  and 
blasts  his  hopes  at  the  moment  of  fruition.  At  length  he  is  in 
love  with  a  lady,  and  on  the  point  of  entering  her  house  to  be 
made  happy.  The  Embozado  issues  out  of  it.  They  fight. 
The  mask  of  the  unknown  falls  off,  and  he  discovers  the  very 
counterpart  of  himself !  He  dies  with  horror  at  the  sight. 
Such  is  Medwin's  mere  recollection  of  the  plot.  Lord  Byron 
was  so  much  struck  with  it,  that  lie  intended  to  make  some- 
thing of  it,  and  repeatedly  mentioned  the  way  he  thought  of 
treating  it.  Medwin  wrote  a  sketch  of  the  subject  and  Lord 
Byron's  ideas  about  it,  which  he  had  intended  to  append  to  a 
new  edition  of  his  Memoirs,  but  he  has  promised  to  hand  it  to 
me.  It  is  certainly  very  striking,  and  something  fine  might  be 
struck  out  from  the  mere  idea.  The  Embozado  is  supposed  to 
be  a  personification  of  the  young  man's  passions.  I  mean  to 
search  for  the  play. 

On  the  4th  of  April,  1825,  he  writes  again  to 
Peter : 


72  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1850. 

I  have  just  purchased  an  edition  of  Calderon,  the  same 
with  that  in  the  King's  Library.  It  is  in  seventeen  volumes. 
I  had  to  give  one  hundred  and  eighty  francs  for  it.  I  do  not 
find  the  Enibozado  in  it.  I  mean  to  get  my  Spanish  master  to 
write  to  Spain  for  that  and  any  other  plays  of  Calderon  that 
may  not  be  in  this  edition. 

la  less  than  a  year  after  this,  Mr.  Irving  went  to 
Spain,  where,  it  seems,  by  his  letter  to  Mr  Ticknor,  he 
sought  in  vain  for  The  Embozado  in  all  the  libraries 
and  collections  of  the  country.  It  is  singular  that  a 
play  of  Calderon,  of  which  Medwin  had  once  obtained 
a  copy,  the  story  of  which  came  near  engaging  the 
pen  of  Byron,  should  have  eluded  research.  It  could 
hardly  have  been  a  production  of  Calderon,  and  Med- 
win probably  erred  in  characterizing  it  as  such. 

The  niece  to  whom  the  following  is  addressed,  had 
returned  to  Paris  in  May,  1850,  from  a  visit  of  some 
months  in  New  York : 

[To  Mrs.  S farrow.] 

Sunntside,  July  18, 1850. 

My  dear  Sarah  : 

Your  letter  could  not  have  arrived  at  a  more  welcome  mo- 
ment, for  it  has  found  me  in  a  state  of  languor  and  debility, 
and  somewhat  depressed  in  spirits,  the  effects  of  an  intermittent 
fever,  from  which  I  am  but  imperfectly  recovered.  I  find  I  do 
not  rally  from  any  attack  of  the  kind  so  speedily  as  I  used  to 
do ;  and  this  one  has  pulled  me  down  so  much,  that  I  think  I 
shall  make  an  excursion  for  change  of  air. 

****** 

Just  as  I  had  got  out  of  the  clutches  of  my  fever,  we  had 


JEt.  66.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  73 

a  visit  from  Mr.  James,  the  novelist,  and  his  family.  He  had 
arrived  in  New  York  several  days  previous,  but  I  had  been 
too  unwell  to  go  down  to  visit  him.  As  soon  as  I  could  crawl 
out,  I  went  to  New  York,  and  called  upon  him.  I  found  he 
had  intended  seeking  me  out  the  next  day.  I  kept  him  to  his 
intention.  *  *  *  The  next  morning,  by  one  of  the  early 
trains,  he  came  up  with  his  wife,  his  daughter,  a  very  pretty 
and  intelligent  girl  about  sixteen  years  of  age,  and  his  two 
sons,  one  of  seventeen,  the  other  of  fourteen  years  of  age. 
They  passed  the  day  with  us.  The  weather  was  delightful 
and  the  visit  went  off  charmingly.  James  is  a  worthy,  ami- 
able  fellow,  full  of  conversation,  and  most  liberal  in  his  feelings. 
****** 

"We  have  all  been  shocked  and  distressed  by  the  death  of 
our  good  old  President,  General  Taylor,  after  a  very  brief  ill- 
ness. It  is  a  great  loss  to  the  country,  especially  in  our  pres- 
ent perplexed  state  of  affairs.  He  has  left  a  name  behind  him 
that  will  remain  one  of  the  most  popular  ones  in  American 
history.  He  was  really  a  good  and  an  honest  man.  uniting  the 
bravery  of  the  soldier  with  the  simplicity  and  benevolence  of 
the  quiet  citizen.  He  had  not  been  long  enough  in  political 
life  to  have  straightforward  honesty  and  frankness  falsified,  nor 
his  quick  sense  of  right  and  wrong  rendered  obtuse.  I  deeply 
regret  not  to  have  seen  him.  I  had  always  looked  forward 
with  confidence  to  taking  him  by  the  hand  either  in  New  York 
or  "Washington.  Report  speaks  well  of  his  successor,  Mr.  Fill- 
more ;  but  I  am  entirely  unacquainted  with  him,  and  of  course 
feel  nothing  of  the  personal  interest  that  I  felt  for  the  good  old 
General. 

And  now  I  must  break  off,  my  dear  Sarah.  I  have  writ- 
Vol.  IV.— 4 


74  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1850. 

ten  a  longer  letter  than  I  thought  I  should  be  able  to  write 
when  I  undertook  it.  I  wish  it  were  a  more  amusing  or  inter- 
esting one  ;  but  you  must  take  the  will  for  the  deed.  I'll  write 
a  better  one  when  I  feel  better. 

Two  days  after  the  date  of  this  letter,  he  was  seized 
with  chills  in  the  cars  on  his  way  to  ]STew  York  which 
proved  the  advance  of  a  serious  indisposition.  Alarmed 
at  the  progress  of  the  fever,  Dr.  Delafield,  an  eminent 
physician  from  New  York,  who  chanced  to  be  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  river,  was  called  in,  and  the  same 
day  Mr.  Irving  made  his  will,  to  be  prepared  for  the 
worst.  The  skilful  treatment  of  his  physician,  how- 
ever, soon  produced  a  favorable  change ;  and  in  a  few 
days  he  dismissed  his  patient  as  out  of  danger,  though 
still  feeble. 

It  was  during  this  period  of  languid  convalescence 
that  he  lifted  up  his  protest  against  the  diabolic  blasts 
of  the  steam  trumpet. 

In  the  following  extract  we  have  a  passing  allusion 
to  the  home  of  his  early  literary  associate,  James  K. 
Paulding,  at  Hyde  Park  on  the  Hudson,  and  also  to 
some  of  the  compensating  advantages  of  the  railroad. 
The  visit  to  Kemble  was  made  early  in  September. 

During  my  visit  to  Kemble  (he  writes  to  Mrs.  Storrow),  I 
set  off  with  him,  one  day,  by  railroad,  for  James  Paulding's 
country  residence,  where  I  had  never  been.  "We  went  by  rail- 
road to  Poughkeepsie,  and  then  took  a  carriage  to  Paulding's. 
He  has  a  lovely  situation,  commanding  one  of  the  most  beauti- 


JEt.  66.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  75 

ful  prospects  of  Hudson  scenery,  with  the  Kaatskill  Mountains 
in  the  distance.  *  *  *  "W"e  had  a  very  pleasant  dinner 
there,  and  got  back  to  Cold  Spring  in  the  evening.  This  rail- 
road makes  every  place  accessible  on  the  easiest  terms. 

The  letter,  which  is  dated  October  31,  continues  : 

You  will  see,  by  the  papers,  that  the  world  has  all  been 
music-mad  here  at  the  arrival  of  Jenny  Lind.  With  all  my 
love  of  music,  I  have  not  yet  heard  nor  seen  her,  but  expect  to 
do  so  next  week.  I  do  not  like  any  more  to  cope  with  crowds, 
and  have  become  a  little  distrustful  of  these  public  paroxysms. 
Besides,  I  am  not  over-fond  of  concerts,  and  would  prefer  some- 
what inferior  talent,  when  aided  by  the  action  and  scenic  effect 
of  the  theatre.  I  anticipate  more  pleasure,  therefore,  from 
Parodi  as  prima  donna  of  the  opera,  than  from  the  passionless 
performances  of  Jenny  Lind  as  a  singer  at  a  concert. 

In  the  following  letter  we  have  a  further  allusion  to 
the  renowned  songstress : 

[ To  Miss  Mary  M.  Hamilton.'] 

Sunnyside,  Nov.  12,  1850. 

My  dear  Miss  Hamilton  : 

•  *  *  You  wish  to  know  what  I  think  of  the  "  Priest- 
ess of  Nature."  I  have  seen  and  heard  her  but  once,  but  have 
at  once  enrolled  myself  among  her  admirers.  I  cannot  say, 
however,  how  much  of  my  admiration  goes  to  her  singing,  how 
much  to  herself.  As  a  singer,  she  appears  to  me  of  the  very 
first  order ;  as  a  specimen  of  womankind,  a  little  more.  She 
is  enough  of  herself  to  counterbalance  all  the  evil  that  the 


76  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1850. 

world  is  threatened  with  by  the  great  convention  of  women. 
So  God  save  Jenny  Lind  1 

Parodi's  Norma  is  the  best  I  have  seen,  except  Grisi's ;  but 
Grisi's  in  some  respects  is  much  superior.  Parodi  has  much 
dramatic  talent,  a  good  voice,  a  commanding  person,  and  a 
countenance  very  expressive,  in  spite  of  her  teeth,  which  are  a 
little  on  the  "  Carker  "  order.  I  doubt,  however,  with  all  her 
tragic  fire,  I  shall  like  her  as  much  in  Lucretia  Borgia  as  the 
fair  Truffi,  for  whom  I  still  cherish  a  certain  degree  of  tendresse. 
But  I  do  not  pretend  to  be  critical,  having  had  all  conceit  of 
that  kind  killed  by  Ford,  the  Gatherer  in  Spain,  who,  in  one 
of  his  papers  in  the  Quarterly  Review,  denominated  me  "  the 
easily  pleased  Washington  Irving." 

I  presume  our  social  rides  are  all  over  for  the  season,  and 

that  you  and  A will  abandon  the  rocks  and  woodlands  and 

other  scrambles  on  horseback,  for  Broadway  and  the  opera.  I 
took  a  ride  on  Dick  this  morning,  but  he  seemed  to  miss  his 
companions,  Ned  and  Dandy,  and  to  have  lost  all  spirit. 

As  we  have  a  kind  of  intermittent  Indian  summer,  which 
incessantly  returns  after  very  brief  intervals,  I  still  hope  to 
have  some  more  rides  among  the  hills  before  winter  sets  in,  and 
should  be  rejoiced  to  take  them  with  the  female  chivalry  of 
Tillietudlem.  Yours  very  truly, 

"Washington  Irving. 

The  day  after  the  date  of  this  letter,  Mr.  Irving 
came  to  town  to  attend  Jenny  Lind's  morning  concert 
of  that  day,  expecting  seats  to  have  been  taken.  Find- 
ing that  none  had  been  procured,  he  returned  home  to 
make  the  attempt  another  day.     Meanwhile,  a  party 


Mr.  67.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  77 

was  arranged  for  Friday  evening,  to  include  Mr.  Irving 
and  all  bis  household,  who  were  to  come  down  for  the 
occasion.  On  arriving  in  the  city,  however,  finding 
that  another  lady  had  been  added  to  the  party,  which 
would  make  up  the  number  without  him,  and  being 
withal  a  little  out  of  mood,  he  suddenly  decamped  for 
home,  to  the  great  surprise  and  regret  of  his  nieces, 
who  had  locked  up  the  silver  preparatory  to  leaving, 
and  were  fearful  that  he  would  not  be  able  to  make 
himself  comfortable.  The  next  morning  one  of  the 
party  wrote,  expressing  her  regret  and  uneasiness  at  his 
sudden  and  unexpected  departure,  informing  him  of 
"  a  nice  arrangement "  she  had  made  for  lodging;  him 
for  the  night,  and  "  fancying  him  sitting  alone  and 
desolate,  and,  worse  than  all,  without  teaspoon  or 
fork."     This  is  his  characteristic  reply  : 

Scnnyside,  Xov.  17,  1850. 

My  dear  Helen  : 

I  am  sorry  to  find  my  hegira  from  town  caused  you  so 
much  regret  and  uneasiness.  It  was  a  sudden  move,  on  find- 
ing that  the  party  for  the  concert  would  be  complete  without 
me,  and  that,  if  I  stayed,  I  should  have  to  look  about  for  quar- 
ters, and  put  others  to  inconvenience.  Besides,  I  find  myself 
growing  more  and  more  indisposed  to  cope  with  the  bustle  and 
confusion  of  the  town,  and  more  and  more  in  love  with  the 
quiet  of  the  country.  While  tossing  about,  therefore,  on  the 
troubled  sea  of  the  city,  without  a  port  at  hand,  I  bethought 
myself  of  the  snug,  quiet  little  port  I  had  left,  and  determined 
to  "  'bout  ship  "  and  run  back  to  it. 

You  seem  to  have  pictured  my  move  as  a  desperate  one, 


78  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1850. 

and  my  evening  as  solitary  and  forlorn  ;  but  you  are  mistaken. 

I  took  a   snug  dinner  at   Frederick's,  where   I   met  A 

H .    He  was  bound  to  Staatsburg,  to  rejoin  his  wife.    We 

went  up  in  the  four  o'clock  train  together.  I  endeavored  to 
persuade  him  to  stop  and  pass  the  night  at  the  cottage,  when 
we  would  break  open  the  storeroom  and  cellar,  rummage  out 
everything  that  the  girls  had  locked  up,  and  have  " high  jinks" 
together.  He  was  strongly  inclined  to  yield  to  my  temptation, 
but  the  thought  of  his  wife  overawed  him.  He  is  evidently 
under  petticoat  government,  like  other  married  men,  and  dare 
not  indulge  in  a  spree,  like  we  free  and  independent  bachelders. 

"When  I  arrived  at  the  cottage,  all  was  dark.  Toby  barked 
at  me  as  if  I  were  a  housebreaker.  I  rang  at  the  front  door. 
There  was  a  stir  and  commotion  within.  A  light  gleamed 
through  the  fanlight.  The  door  was  cautiously  opened  by  Ber- 
nard ;  behind  him  was  Sophia,  and  behind  her  Hannah,  while 
Peter  and  the  cook  stood  ready  as  a  corps  de  reserve  in  the 
kitchen  passage.  I  believe,  for  a  moment,  they  doubted 
whether  it  was  myself  or  my  ghost. 

My  arrival  caused  no  little  perplexity,  everything  being- 
locked  up.  However,  by  furbishing  up  the  kitchen  plate  and 
china,  the  tea  table  was  set  out  after  a  fashion  by  Sophia,  and  I 
made  a  very  cosy  though  somewhat  queer  repast. 

My  evening  passed  very  serenely,  dozing  over  a  book,  and 
dreaming  that  the  girls,  as  usual,  were  all  silently  sewing  around 
me.  I  passed  a  comfortable  night ;  had  a  cosy  bachelor  break- 
fast the  next  morning,  took  a  ride  on  gentleman  Dick,  and,  in 
fact,  led  a  life  of  single  blessedness,  until  my  womankind  re- 
turned, about  two  o'clock,  to  put  an  end  to  my  dream  of  sov- 
ereignty. 


Mi.  67.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  79 


CHAPTEE    V. 

APPLICATION'  FOR  AN  ORIGINAL  THOUGHT — BORING  LETTERS — LETTER  TO  JESSE 
MERWIN,  THB  ORIGINAL  OF  ICHABOD  CRANE — HIS  LAST  PORTRAIT — LETTER 
TO  MRS.  STORROW — THE  REVERIES  OF  A  BACHELOR — THE  SCARLET  LETTER — 
LETTER  TO  M.  H.  GRINNELL — BOHN's  INFRINGEMENT  OF  COPTRIGHT — LETTER 
TO  BENTLEY — LETTER  OF  JOHN  MURRAY — LETTER  TO  JOHN  BARNEY — LETTER 
TO  H.  T.  TUCKERMAN,  ALLUDING  TO  ROGERS,  AND  TO  ARTICLE  IN  HOMES  OF 
AMERICAN  AUTHORS — LETTER  TO  WM,  C.  BRYANT  ON  THE  SUBJECT  OF  THE 
PIFFERENT   PORTRAITS  OF  COLUMBUS. 

T  I  THE  following  letter  was  written  to  a  young  lady, 
-*-  who  proposed  to  come  to  him  and  ask  his  counsel 
about  the  publication  of  some  poems  of  a  brother  who 
had  graduated  with  distinction,  and  been  cut  off  in  the 
bloom  of  his  youth  : 

Sunntside,  Feb.  8, 1851. 

Dear  Madam : 

"While  I  sincerely  sympathize  -with  you  in  the  affliction 
caused  by  your  great  bereavement,  and  have  no  doubt  your 
brother  was  worthy  of  the  praise  bestowed  on  his  memory,  I 
mnst  most  respectfully  excuse  myself  from  the  vory  delicate 
and  responsible  task  of  giving  an  opinion  of  his  poems.  I 
have  no  confidence  in  the  coolness  and  correctness  of  my  own 
judgment  in  matters  of  the  kind,  and  have  repeatedly  found 
the  exercise  of  it,  in  compliance  with  solicitations  like  the  pres- 
ent, so  productive  of  dissatisfaction  to  others,  and  poignant 


30  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1851. 

regret  to  myself,  that  I  have  long  since  been  driven  to  the  ne- 
cessity of  declining  it  altogether. 

Trusting  you  will  receive  this  apology  in  the  frank  and 
friendly  spirit  in  which  it  is  made,  I  remain,  with  great  respect, 
your  obedient  servant, 

"Washington  Irving. 

Here  is  a  reply  to  a  modest  application  from  an 
unknown  admirer  to  "  pen  (him)  just  one  original 
thought " : 

Dear  Sir  : 

I  would  be  happy  to  furnish  you  with  the  "  original 
thought "  you  require  ;  but  it  is  a  coinage  of  the  brain  not 
always  at  my  command,  and  certainly  not  at  present.  So  I 
hope  you  will  be  content  with  my  sincere  thanks  in  return  for 
the  kind  and  complimentary  expressions  of  your  letter. 

No  man  could  be  more  bored  than  Mr.  Irving,  by, 
as  lie  once  expressed  it,  "  all  sorts  of  letters  from  all 
sorts  of  persons."  I  remember  his  once  showing  me  a 
letter  asking  him  to  subscribe  to  some  particular  book. 
"Now,"  he  said,  turning  to  me,  "this  must  be  an- 
swered. Every  letter  to  be  answered  is  a  trifle ;  but 
your  life  in  this  way  is  exhausted  in  trifles.  You  are 
entangled  in  a  network  of  cobwebs.  Each  letter  is  a 
cobweb  across  your  nose.  The  bores  of  this  world  are 
endless." 

The  following  letter  is  addressed  to  Jesse  Merwin, 
a  schoolmaster  whom  he  had  met  long  years  before  at 


Ml.  67.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  81 

Judge  Yan  Ness's,  at  Kinderhook.  Merwin  had  called 
on  him  at  New  York,  but,  not  finding,  him,  had  after- 
ward written  to  him,  and,  among  various  allusions  to 
the  olden  time,  had  mentioned  the  death  of  Dominie 
Yan  Nest,  a  clergyman  whom  they  had  both  known  at 
that  period.  To  Mr.  Irving's  surprise,  the  letter  ap- 
peared in  print  a  few  days  after.  Jesse  Merwin's  let- 
ter is  indorsed  in  Mr.  Irving's  own  handwriting : 
"  From  Jesse  Merwin,  the  original  of  Ichabod  Crane." 

Sitnntside,  Feb.  12, 1851. 

You  must  excuse  me,  my  good  friend  Merwin,  for  suffering 
your  letter  to  remain  so  long  unanswered.  You  can  have  no 
idea  how  many  letters  I  have  to  answer,  besides  fagging  with 
my  pen  at  my  own  literary  tasks,  so  that  it  is  impossible  for  me 
to  avoid  being  behindhand  in  my  correspondence.  Your  letter 
was  indeed  most  welcome — calling  up,  as  it  did,  the  recollection 
of  pleasant  scenes  and  pleasant  days  passed  together  in  times 
long  since  at  Judge  Van  Ness's,  in  Kinderhook.  Your  men- 
tion of  the  death  of  good  old  Dominie  Yan  Nest,  recalls  the 
apostolic  zeal  with  which  he  took  our  little  sinful  community  in 
hand,  when  he  put  up  for  a  day  or  two  at  the  Judge's ;  and 
the  wholesome  castigation  he  gave  us  all,  one  Sunday,  begin- 
ning with  the  two  country  belles  who  came  fluttering  into  the 
schoolhouse  during  the  sermon,  decked  out  in  their  city  finery, 
and  ending  with  the  Judge  himself,  in  the  stronghold  of  his  own 
mansion.  How  soundly  he  gave  it  to  us  !  How  he  peeled  off 
every  rag  of  self-righteousness  with  which  we  tried  to  cover 
ourselves,  and  laid  the  rod  on  the  bare  backs  of  our  con- 
sciences !  The  good,  plain-spoken,  honest  old  man  !  How  I 
Vol.  IV— i*  (6) 


82  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1851. 

honored  him  for  his  simple,  straightforward  earnestness,  his 
homely  sincerity  !  He  certainly  handled  us  without  mittens ; 
hut  I  trust  we  are  all  the  better  for  it.  How  different  he  was 
from  the  brisk,  dapper,  self-sufficient  little  apostle  who  cantered 
up  to  the  Judge's  door  a  day  or  two  after ;  who  was  so  full  of 
himself  that  he  had  no  thought  to  bestow  on  our  religious  de- 
linquencies ;  who  did  nothing  but  boast  of  his  public  trials  of 
skill  in  argument  with  rival  preachers  of  other  denominations, 
and  how  he  had  driven  them  off  the  field,  and  crowed  over 
them.  You  must  remember  the  bustling,  self-confident  little 
man,  with  a  tin  trumpet  in  the  handle  of  his  riding  whip,  with 
which  I  presume  he  blew  the  trumpet  in  Zion  ! 

Do  you  remember  our  fishing  expedition,  in  company  with 
Congressman  Van  Alen,  to  the  little  lake  a  few  miles  from 
Kmderhook ;  and  John  Moore,  the  vagabond  admiral  of  the 
lake,  who  sat  crouched  in  a  heap  in  the  middle  of  his  canoe  in 
the  centre  of  the  lake,  with  fishing  rods  stretching  out  in  every 
direction  like  the  long  legs  of  a  spider  ?  And  do  you  remem- 
ber our  piratical  prank,  when  we  made  up  for  our  bad  luck  in 
fishing,  by  plundering  his  canoe  of  its  fish  when  we  found  it 
adrift  ?  And  do  you  remember  how  John  Moore  came  splash- 
ing along  the  marsh  on  the  opposite  border  of  the  lake,  roaring 
at  us  ;  and  how  we  finished  our  frolic  by  driving  off  and  leav- 
ing the  Congressman  to  John  Moore's  mercy,  tickling  ourselves 
with  the  idea  of  his  being  scalped  at  least  ?  Ah,  well-a-day, 
friend  Merwin,  those  were  the  days  of  our  youth  and  folly.  I 
trust  we  have  grown  wiser  and  better  since  then  ;  we  certainly 
have  grown  older.  I  don't  think  we  could  rob  John  Moore's 
fishing  canoe  now.  By  the  way,  that  same  John  Moore,  and 
the  anecdotes  you  told  of  him,  gave  me  the  idea  of  a  vagabond 


-<Et.  67.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  83 

character,  Dirck  Schuyler,  in  my  Knickerbocker  History  of 
New  York,  which  I  was  then  writing. 

You  tell  me  the  old  schoolhouse  is  torn  down,  and  a  new 
one  built  in  its  place.  I  am  sorry  for  it.  I  should  have  liked 
to  see  the  old  schoolhouse  once  more,  where,  after  my  morn- 
ing's literary  task  was  over,  I  used  to  come  and  wait  for  you 
occasionally  until  school  was  dismissed,  and  you  used  to  prom- 
ise to  keep  back  the  punishment  of  some  little,  tough,  broad- 
bottomed  Dutch  boy  until  I  should  come,  for  my  amusement — 
but  never  kept  your  promise.  I  don't  think  I  should  look 
with  a  friendly  eye  on  the  new  schoolhouse,  however  nice  it 
might  be. 

Since  I  saw  you  in  New  York,  I  have  had  severe  attacks 
of  bilious  intermittent  fever,  which  shook  me  terribly ;  but 
they  cleared  out  my  system,  and  I  have  ever  since  been  in  my 
usual  excellent  health,  able  to  mount  my  horse  and  gallop 
about  the  country  almost  as  briskly  as  when  I  was  a  youngster. 
Wishing  you  the  enjoyment  of  the  same  inestimable  blessing, 
and  begging  you  to  remember  me  to  your  daughter,  who 
penned  your  letter,  and  to  your  son,  whom,  out  of  old  kindness 
and  companionship,  you  have  named  after  me, 

I  remain  ever,  my  old  friend,  yours  very  truly  and  cordially, 

"Washington  Irving. 

About  this  time,  Mr.  Irving  was  induced  to  sit  to 
Martin,  an  English  artist,  for  the  last  portrait  ever 
taken  of  him.  Though  somewhat  idealized,  and  too 
youthful  for  his  age  at  that  time,  it  had  much  of  his 
character  and  expression  about  it,  and  received  the  fol- 
lowing notice  from  the  pen  of  the  poet,  N.  P.  Willis, 
in  the  Home  Journal : 


84  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1851. 

We  spoke,  the  other  day,  of  Geoffrey  Crayon's  having 
once  more  consented  to  sit  for  his  picture.  Mr.  Martin  has 
just  finished  it,  and  we  fancy  there  has  seldom  been  a  more 
felicitous  piece  of  work.  It  is  not  only  like  Irving,  but  like 
his  books ;  and,  though  he  looks  as  his  books  read  (which  is 
true  of  few  authors),  and  looks  like  the  name  of  his  cottage — 
Sunnyside — and  looks  like  what  the  world  thinks  of  him,  yet 
a  painter  might  have  missed  this  look,  and  still  have  made 
what  many  would  consider  a  likeness.  He  sits  leaning  his 
head  on  his  hand,  with  the  genial,  unconscious,  courtly  compo- 
sure of  expression  that  he  habitually  wears ;  and  still  there  is 
visible  the  couchant  humor  and  philosophic  inevitableness  of 
perception,  which  form  the  strong  undercurrent  of  his  genius. 
The  happy  temper  and  the  strong  intellect  of  Irving ;  the  joy- 
ously indolent  man  and  the  arousably  brilliant  author,  are  both 
there.  As  a  picture,  it  is  a  fine  specimen  of  art.  The  flesh  is 
most  skilfully  crayoned,  the  pose  excellent,  the  drawing  ap- 
parently effortless  and  yet  nicely  true,  and  the  air  altogether 
Irving-y  and  gentlemanlike.  If  well  engraved,  we  have  him 
— delightful  and  famous  Geoffrey — as  he  lives,  as  he  is  thought 
to  live,  as  he  writes,  as  he  talks,  and  as  he  ought  to  be  remem- 
bered. 

The  letter  which  follows,  was  written  soon  after  his 
return  from  a  visit  to  Mr.  William  Swain,  at  New 
Bedford : 

[3b  Mrs.  Storroiv.~] 

Sunnyside,  May  6, 1851. 

My  dear  Sarah  : 

Your  most  delightful  letter  of  March  5th  has  remained  too 
long  unanswered ;  but  it  found  me  crowded  with  occupation, 


JEt.  68.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  85 

getting  out  a  revised  edition  of  the  Alhambra,  in  which  I  was 
making  many  alterations  and  additions,  with  the  press  close  at 
my  heels. 

****** 

I  have  been  very  little  in  town  this  winter.  Indeed,  I 
may  say  that  I  have  lived  almost  exclusively  in  the  country 
since  your  departure.  My  time  has  been  very  much  occupied 
with  my  pen,  preparing  and  printing  my  revised  editions,  &c. ; 
and  it  will  continue  to  be  so  occupied  until  I  finish  the  Life  of 
"Washington,  on  which  I  am  now  busy.  I  am  always  happiest 
when  I  have  a  considerable  part  of  my  time  thus  employed, 
and  feel  reason  to  be  thankful  that  my  intellectual  powers  con- 
tinue capable  of  being  so  tasked.  I  shall  endeavor,  however, 
not  to  overtask  myself;  shall  mount  my  horse  often,  and 
break  off  occasionally  to  make  an  excursion  like  that  to  New 
Bedford. 

****** 

You  speak,  in  one  of  your  letters  to  the  family,  of  the 
pleasure  you  have  had  in  reading  the  "  Reveries  of  a  Bach- 
elor." It  is  indeed  a  very  beautiful  work.  The  author  Avas 
kind  enough  to  send  me  a  copy,  and  to  call  on  me.  I  am 
much  pleased  with  him.  He  is  quiet  and  gentlemanlike  in 
manners  and  appearance,  and  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  cultivate 
his  acquaintance.  I  understand  he  is  engaged  to  be  married  ; 
I  hope  to  one  worthy  of  being  the  subject  of  one  of  his  rev- 
eries. 

There  are  two  very  clever  works  which  have  made  their 
appearance  within  a  year  or  so,  one  quite  recently — The  Scar- 
let Letter  and  The  House  with  the  Seven  Gables.  They  are  by 
Hawthorne,  and  two  of  the  best  works  of  fiction  that  have 
issued  from  the  American  press. 


gg  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1851. 

Remember  me  affectionately  to  your  husband,  and  kiss 
the  dear  little  women  for  me. 

Ever,  my  dear  Sarah,  your  affectionate  uncle, 

Washington  Irving. 

Of  one  of  the  works  here  mentioned — The  Scarlet 
Letter — I  inquired  his  opinion  just  after  he  had  fin- 
ished reading  it,  and  the  impression  was  fresh.  "  Mas- 
terly !  masterly  !  !  masterly  !  ! !  "  was  his  emphatic 
reply. 

The  following  amusing  letter  is  addressed  to  M.  H. 
Grinnell,  the  husband  of  his  niece,  who  had  invited 
him  to  dine  with  him  in  the  city,  and  who  had  just 
completed  a  house  in  the  neighborhood  of  Sunnyside, 
which  he  expected  soon  to  occupy : 

Sunnyside,  May  20,  1651. 

My  dear  Grinnell  : 

I  must  beg  you  to  excuse  me  from  dining  with  you  to- 
morrow. Sunnyside  is  possessed  by  seven  devils,  and  I  have 
to  be  continually  on  the  watch  to  keep  all  from  going  to  ruin. 
First,  we  have  a  legion  of  womenkind,  cleaning  and  scouring 
the  house  from  top  to  bottom  ;  so  that  we  are  all  reduced  to 
eat  and  drink  and  have  our  being  in  my  little  library.  In  the 
midst  of  this,  our  water  is  cut  off.  An  Irishman  from  your 
establishment  undertook  to  shut  up  my  spring,  as  he  had  yours, 
within  brick  walls  ;  the  spring  showed  proper  spirit,  and  broke 
bounds,  and  all  the  water  pipes  ran  dry  in  consequence.  In 
the  dearth  of  painters,  I  have  employed  a  couple  of  country 
carpenters  to  paint  my  roofs,  and  it  requires  all  my  vigilance 
to  keep  them  from  painting  them  like  Joseph's  coat  of  divers 


Mr.  63.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  87 

colors.  Your  little  man  "Westerfield  is  to  plaster  my  chimneys 
to-morrow,  and  your  plumbers  and  bellhangers  to  attack  the 
vitals  of  the  house.  I  have  a  new  coachman,  to  be  inducted 
into  all  the  mysteries  of  the  stable  and  coach  house  ;  so  all 
that  part  of  the  establishment  is  in  what  is  called  a  halla  baloo. 
In  a  word,  I  never  knew  of  such  a  tempest  in  a  teapot  as  is 
just  now  going  on  in  little  Sunnyside.  I  trust,  therefore,  you 
will  excuse  me  for  staying  at  home  to  sink  or  swim  with  the 
concern.  Yours,  affectionately, 

"Washington  Irving. 

P.  S. — Lee  has  not  yet  commenced  the  long-promised  fill- 
ing up,  which  was  certainly  to  be  begun  yesterday.  I  begin 
more  fully  to  understand  what  is  meant  by  Lee-way. 

This  was  the  filling  up  of  a  space  between  the  bank 
and  the  railroad,  in  "which  the  water  was  apt  to  rest, 
and  generate,  as  he  believed,  unwholesome  miasma. 
Lee  was  an  agent  of  the  railroad,  and  Mr.  G-.  a 
director. 

The  following  is  in  reply  to  an  application  of  Mr. 
Richard  Bentley,  the  London  publisher,  who  was 
meditating  a  suit  against  Mr.  Bohn  for  an  infringe- 
ment of  the  copyrights  of  three  of  the  author's  works 
purchased  by  him.  Murray  had  already  gone  to  great 
expense  to  defend  his  copyrights,  the  sale,  on  the  re- 
publication of  the  works,  being  greater  than  ever  in 
both  countries.  For  fifteen  years  some  of  the  volumes 
had  not  been  reprinted  by  him  or  his  father. 


88  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1851. 

[  To  Richard  Bentley.~\ 

Sunntsidb,  July  1,  1851. 

Dear  Sir: 

I  have  received  your  two  letters,  dated  June  3d  and  4th, 
informing  me  of  your  intention  to  proceed  against  certain  book- 
sellers for  an  infringement  of  the  copyrights  of  the  Alhambra, 
Astoria,  and  Bonneville  ;  and,  inasmuch  as  you  had  no  formal 
deed  of  assignment  from  me,  requesting  me  to  authorize  your 
solicitor,  Frederick  Nicholls  Devey,  Esq.,  to  institute  proceed- 
ings in  my  name. 

As  the  whole  proceeding  is  for  your  account  and  benefit, 
and  at  your  expense,  I  cannot  refuse  to  delegate  this  authority 
to  the  gentleman  named  ;  but  I  confess  I  give  my  consent 
most  reluctantly  to  a  measure  by  which  I  am  made  to  appear 
as  a  litigant,  and,  though  only  nominally  so,  yet  at  the  great 
hazard  of  misconception. 

If  your  solicitor  could  prepare  an  assignment,  or  other  in- 
strument which  might  have  a  retroactive  operation,  and  enable 
you  to  sue  in  your  own  name,  I  would  greatly  prefer  it.  If 
this  be  impracticable,  then  you  may  take  this  letter  as  a  war- 
rant to  your  solicitor  to  appear  for  me,  with  full  power  and  au- 
thority to  represent  me  in  any  suit  you  may  deem  necessary  in 
regard  to  the  beforementioned  works,  and  before  any  court.  I 
wish  it  to  be  publicly  understood,  however,  in  this  contingency, 
that  you  have  recourse  to  my  name  on  your  own  behalf,  and 
only  from  a  technical  necessity,  and  that  I  have  no  personal 
interest  in  the  event  of  the  proceeding. 
Yours  very  truly, 

Washington  Irving. 


JEt.  68.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  89 

I  presume  no  proceedings  were  ever  instituted  by- 
Mr.  Bentley,  as  it  will  be  seen,  by  the  following  letter 
of  Mr.  Murray  to  Mr.  Irving,  that  he  Lad  compro- 
mised his  suit  witli  Bohn  in  September,  only  two 
months  after  the  date  of  the  preceding  letter  : 

Albemarle  Street,  Sept.  19. 

My  peak  Sir  : 

Having  troubled  you  so  often,  and,  I  fear,  seriously,  on  the 
subject  of  my  lawsuit  with  Bohn,  it  is  with  peculiar  satisfaction 
that  I  now  write  to  tell  you  that  it  is  at  an  end.  Mr.  Bohn 
has  offered  me  terms  which  are  satisfactory  to  me  and  not 
humiliating  to  him.  He  has  destroyed  for  me  all  value  in  your 
works,  and  I  make  over  to  him  the  copyright. 

I  regret  to  part  with  them,  but  it  seemed  to  me  the  only 
way  to  get  out  of  the  squabble,  which  was  becoming  very  seri- 
ous, my  law  expenses  alone  having  run  up  to  £850. 

One  good,  at  least,  has  been  elicited  out  of  the  contest — 
it  has  settled  the  right  of  foreigners  to  hold  copyright  in  this 
country ;  for  I  am  assured  by  my  counsel,  Sir  Fitzroy  Kelly, 
one  of  the  soundest  heads  at  our  bar,  that  the  recent  decision 
of  our  judges  on  that  head  is  not  likely  to  be  reversed  by  the 
House  of  Lords,  or  any  other  tribunal.  Sir  F.  K.  has  studied 
the  subject  minutely,  and  made  an  admirable  speech  in  the 
Queen's  Bench  on  my  side.  I  hope,  therefore,  that  the  Life 
of  "Washington,  and  other  works  to  come  from  your  pen,  may 
yet  bring  advantage  to  their  author  from  this  country ;  but 
priority  of  publication  in  England  is  an  indispensable  condi- 
tion, and  must  in  all  cases  be  guaranteed  and  carefully  attested 
at  the  time  of  appearance. 

No  one  can  desire  more  than  I  do  an  international  copy- 


90  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1851. 

right  arrangement  with  the  Americans.     In  my  desire  I  am 
not  surpassed  by  Mr.  Bohn,  nor  Sir  E.  L.  Bulwer ;  but  I  differ 
from  them  in  the  strong  conviction  which  I  feel  that  it  is  not 
by  pirating  American  books  that  the  object  is  to  be  attained. 
I  remain,  my  dear  sir,  yours  very  sincerely, 

John  Murray. 

The  following  letter  is  addressed  to  John  Barney, 
better  known  to  the  world  as  "  Beau  Barney,"  one  of 
the  patriarchs  of  the  fashionable  circles  of  Washington 
City  for  many  years,  and  is  in  reply  to  one  from  him 
recalling  their  first  meeting  at  Burr's  trial  at  Rich- 
mond, forty-three  years  before,  and  mentioning  the  kind 
recollections  of  his  sister,  whom  he  met  at  that  time : 

Scnntbide,  Oct.  30,  1851. 

My  dear  Mr.  Barney  : 

Your  letter  of  the  25th  has  acted  upon  me  like  a  charm, 
calling  up  such  pleasant  scenes  in  times  long  past,  when  we 
were  both  gay  young  fellows,  that  I  cannot  go  to  bed  before 
answering  it.  What  you  mention  of  kind  recollections  of  me 
that  were  cherished  by  your  sister,  flatters  my  old  bachelor 
heart  even  now ;  for  she  was  one  of  my  early  admirations,  and 
her  image  dwells  in  my  memory  as  she  appeared  to  me  at  the 
time,  so  amiable,  graceful,  and  ladylike.  I  well  remember  see- 
ing her  also  at  Baltimore,  after  her  marriage,  with  her  first 
child,  a  fine  boy,  and,  though  a  mere  infant,  remarkably  sensi- 
ble to  music;  being  easily  moved  by  it  either  to  tears  or  trans- 
ports.    I  believe  I  have  since  met  him  a  man  grown. 

You  talk  of  children  and  grandchildren.  I  have  nothing 
but  literary  bantlings  to  boast  of.     I  trust  your  progeny  will 


JEn.  63.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  91 

outlive  mine,  and  increase  and  multiply,  and  continue  your 
name  from  generation  to  generation ;  which  is  more  than  can 
be  expected  from  the  progeny  of  the  Muse,  however  prolific 
she  may  be. 

Wishing  you  many  pleasant  and  prosperous  days,  I  will 
now  bid  you  "  good  night,"  and  will  endeavor  to  continue  in 
my  sleep  the  agreeable  dreams  you  have  awakened. 
Yours  ever,  very  truly, 

"Washington  Irving. 

The  letter  which  follows,  from  Mr.  Henry  T. 
Tuekerman,  and  Mr.  Irving's  reply,  I  introduce  with 
the  single  remark,  that  the  former  had  lately  con- 
tributed to  a  publication  of  Mr.  Putnam,  entitled 
"  Homes  of  American  Authors,"  a  graceful  notice  of 
Sunnyside  and  its  proprietor : 

\To  J]'ashinjton  Irving.] 

New  Yokk,  Dec.  6,  1852. 

My  dear  Sir  : 

I  expect  to  sail  for  England  in  the  Baltic  on  Saturday 
next ;  and,  although  my  stay  will  probably  be  cpiite  brief, 
I  am  desirous  of  seeing  Mr.  Rogers.  "Will  you  give  me  a  line 
to  him,  and  any  other  friend  in  England  whom  it  would  be 
pleasant  for  me  to  see  ?  and  oblige, 

Yours  ever,  truly  and  respectfully, 

Henry  T.  Tuckerman. 


92  I^E  AND  LETTERS  [1852. 

[To  Mr.  II.   T.   Tucket-man.] 

Susntside,  Dec.  8,1852. 

My  dear  Sir  : 

I  send  you  three  letters  of  introduction,  which  I  hope  may 
be  of  service  to  you.  My  poor  friend  Rogers,  I  fear,  is  grow- 
ing too  infirm  to  render  those  attentions  he  was  formerly  so 
prompt  to  show  to  Americans  of  worth.  Sir  Robert  Harry 
Inglis  is  a  man  of  the  most  genial  character,  full  of  intelli- 
gence, and  in  communion  with  the  most  intellectual  society  of 
England.     He  is  a  man  I  love  and  honor. 

John  Murray  has  succeeded  to  his  father  in  the  literary 
realm  of  Albemarle  street,  which  I  used  to  find  a  favorite 
haunt  of  notorieties. 

Permit  me  to  make  my  acknowledgments  for  the  very  kind 
and  flattering  notice  you  have  taken  of  me  and  my  little  rural 
nest,  in  Putnam's  late  publication.     I  wish  I  could  feel  myself 
worthy  of  half  that  you  have  said  of  me. 
Yours  ever,  very  truly, 

"Washington  Irving. 

The  following  letter  to  Mr.  Bryant,  respecting  the 
different  portraits  of  Columbus,  embraces  the  result  of 
Mr.  Irving's  researches  on  that  subject,  and  will  be 
found  to  contain  many  particulars  of  interest.  Joseph 
E.  Bloomfield,  the  gentleman  alluded  to  in  the  first 
paragraph,  had  been  for  some  years  a  resident  of  the 
south  of  Spain,  and,  having  become  familiar  with  the 
portraits  purporting  to  be  the  likenesses  of  the  great 
discoverer,  a  correspondence  on  the  subject  had  taken 
place  between  him  and  Mr.  Irving.     In  the  letter  to 


JEt.  68.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  93 

Mr.  Bryant,  who  had  applied  to  Mr.  Irving  for  leave 
to  publish  his  hasty  notes  to  Mr.  Bloomfield,  he  has 
recast  his  replies  to  that-  gentleman,  with  some  addi- 
tions. I  transfer  the  letter  from  the  columns  of  the 
Evening  Post,  the  journal  edited  by  Mr.  Bryant,  in 
which  it  first  appeared  : 

[To  William  C.  Bryant,  Esq] 

My  dear  Sir  : 

In  consequence  of  the  interest  expressed  by  you  as  to  a 
recent  correspondence  with  Mr.  Joseph  E.  Bloomfield,  of 
Mexico,  New  York,  on  some  points  relative  to  Columbus,  I 
have  thrown  the  purport  of  my  replies  to  that  gentleman  into 
something  of  a  connected  form.  Mr.  Bloomfield  was  desirous 
of  my  opinion  of  a  portrait  of  Columbus  existing  in  the  Lonja, 
or  Royal  Exchange,  at  Seville,  and  which  he  says  was  the  only 
one  acknowledged  in  Spain  as  a  true  likeness.  In  reply,  I 
have  stated,  that  I  know  of  no  portrait  extant  which  is  posi- 
tively known  to  be  authentic.  The  one  in  question,  according 
to  his  account  of  it,  is  full  length,  and  that  of  a  person  from 
thirty  to  thirty-five  years  of  age,  armed  in  mail,  and  wearing  a 
full  white  ruff.  Now  Columbus,  by  the  time  his  discoveries 
had  made  him  a  subject  for  such  a  painting,  was  quite  ad- 
vanced in  years.  The  ruff,  too,  was  not  an  article  of  dress  in 
Spain  until  after  his  death.  It  was  a  Flemish  fashion,  brought, 
I  believe,  from  Flanders  to  Spain  in  the  time  of  Charles  V, 
who  did  not  arrive  in  the  Peninsula  until  1516,  ten  years  after 
the  death  of  Columbus.  The  portrait  may  have  been  one  of 
Diego  Columbus,  the  heir  and  successor  of  the  discoverer,  and 
who,  like  him,  was  denominated  "  the  Admiral." 


94  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1851. 

Various  portraits  of  Columbus  have  appeared  from  time  to 
time  in  Italy,  not  one  resembling  the  others,  and  all  differing 
essentially  from  the  description  given  by  Fernando  of  his 
father.  Theodore  de  Bry,  in  his  "America,"  published  in  the 
sixteenth  century,  gave  an  engraving  of  one  in  his  possession, 
which  he  pretended  had  been  stolen  from  a  saloon  of  the  Coun- 
cil of  the  Indias,  and  sold  in  the  Netherlands,  where  it  fell 
into  his  hands.  The  same  has  been  copied  in  an  eulogium  of 
Columbus  by  the  Marquis  of  Durazzo,  printed  by  Bodoni,  and 
in  a  life  of  the  discoverer  published  in  Milan  by  the  Chevalier 
Bossi.  This  pretended  portrait  also  differs  entirely  from  the 
graphic  description  given  by  Fernando  Columbus  of  his  father. 
According  to  this,  his  visage  was  long,  and  neither  full  nor 
meagre  ;  the  cheek  bones  rather  high,  his  nose  aquiline,  his 
eyes  light  gray,  his  complexion  fair  and  high  colored  {acceso  di 
vivo  colore).  In  his  youth,  his  hair  was  blonde  ;  but  by  the 
time  he  was  thirty  years  of  age  it  was  quite  white.  This 
minute  description  I  consider  the  touchstone  by -which  all  the 
pretended  portraits  of  him  should  be  tried.  It  agrees  with 
accounts  given  of  him  by  Las  Casas  and  other  contemporaries. 

Peschiera,  a  sculptor,  employed  in  Genoa  to  make  a  bust  of 
him  for  a  monument  erected  to  his  memory  in  that  city  in 
1821,  discarded  all  existing  portraits  as  either  spurious  or 
doubtful,  and  guided  himself  by  the  descriptions  I  have  cited. 

"While  I  was  in  Madrid,  in  1826,  Don  Martin  Fernandez 
de  Navarrete,  President  of  the  Eoyal  Academy  of  History, 
published  a  lithographed  copy  of  an  engraved  portrait  of  Co- 
lumbus, which  he  found  in  an  old  Italian  work  containing  like- 
nesses of  distinguished  persons.  He  and  the  Duke  of  Vera- 
guas  (the  descendant  of  Columbus)  placed  confidence  in  it, 
because  other  portraits  in  the  same  work  were  known  to  be 


jEt.  68.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  95 

correct.  I  doubted  its  authenticity.  It  did  not  agree  suffi- 
ciently with  the  description  before  mentioned ;  and  the  hair 
especially,  in  the  notice  which  accompanied  it  in  the  Italian 
work,  was  said  to  be  black.  Still,  I  published  a  copy  of  the 
engraving,  some  years  since,  in  an  abridged  edition  of  my  Life 
of  the  discoverer. 

"While  I  was  in  Paris,  in  1845,  Mons.  Jomard,  the  learned 
principal  of  the  Royal  (now  National)  Library,  had  the  kind- 
ness to  send  me  a  lithographic  copy  of  a  portrait  in  oil,  re- 
cently discovered.  The  original  bore,  in  one  corner  of  the 
canvas,  the  inscription,  Chkistoforus  Columbus.  The  coun- 
tenance was  venerable  and  dignified,  and  agreed,  more  than 
any  I  had  seen,  with  the  description  given  by  Fernando  Co- 
lumbus. Around  the  neck,  however,  was  the  Flemish  ruff, 
which  I  pointed  out  as  an  anachronism.  M.  Jomard  endeav- 
ored to  account  for  it  by  supposing  the  portrait  to  have  been 
made  up  toward  the  year*  1580  by  some  scholar  of  Titian,  from 
some  design  or  sketch  taken  during  the  lifetime  of  Columbus, 
and  that  the  artist  may  have  decked  it  out  in  the  costume  in 
vogue  at  the  time  he  painted  it.  This  is  very  possible.  Such 
a  custom  of  vamping  up  new  portraits  from  old  ones  seems  to 
have  been  adopted  in  the  time  of  Charles  V,  when  there  were 
painters  of  merit  about  the  court. 

In  1519,  Juan  de  Borgona,  a  Spanish  artist,  executed  a 
whole  series  of  portraits  of  the  primates  of  Spain  for  the  chap- 
ter room  of  the  Cathedral  of  Toledo ;  some  of  them  from  the 
life,  some  from  rude  originals,  and  some  purely  imaginary. 
Some  degree  of  license  of  the  kind  may  have  been  indulged  in 
producing  this  alleged  portrait  of  Columbus.  As  it  is  evi- 
dently a  work  of  merit,  and  bears  the  stamp  of  his  character, 


96  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1851. 

I .  have  published  an  engraving  of  it  in  one  of  the  editions  of 
his  biography. 

Painting  had  not  attained  much  eminence  in  Spain  during 
the  lifetime  of  Columbus,  though  it  was  improving  under  the 
auspices  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella.  There  were,  as  yet,  no 
Italian  painters  in  the  peninsula ;  and  tbe  only  Spanish  painter 
of  note  was  Antonio  Rincon,  who  is  said  to  have  been  the  first 
who  "  left  the  stiff  Gothic  style,  and  attempted  to  give  to  his 
figures  something  of  the  graces  and  proportions  of  nature." 
He  executed  portraits  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  who  made 
him  their  painter-in-ordinary. 

The  originals  have  disappeared  in  the  war  of  the  French 
intrusion ;  but  copies  of  two  of  his  full-length  portraits  of  the 
sovereigns  exist  in  one  of  the  lower  corridors  of  the  Royal 
Gallery  of  Madrid.  It  is  very  probable  that  he  painted  a  por- 
trait of  Columbus  at  the  time  when  he  was  at  the  court,  the 
object  of  universal  attention  on  account  of  his  discoveries ;  but 
if  so,  it  likewise  has  disappeared,  or  may  exist  anonymously  in 
some  corner  of  Spain,  or  in  the  collection  of  some  picture 
hunter. 

So  much  for  the  portraits  of  Columbus.  Another  subject 
of  inquiry  with  Mr.  Bloomfield  was  the  name  of  the  discov- 
erer. He  asks  why  he  should  not  call  him  by  the  name  he 
signed  to  all  his  letters  now  in  the  Royal  Exchange  of  Seville, 
Christoval  Colon  ;  and  he  wishes  to  know  u  how  did  or  could 
Colon  be  changed  to  Columbus  ?  " 

In  regard  to  the  name  there  is  some  petty  mystery.  That 
of  the  family  in  Genoa  was  Colombo,  and  his  original  Italian 
designation  was  Cristoforo  Colombo.  When  he  first  came  into 
Spain  from  Portugal,  he  seems  to  have  retained  his  Italian  fam- 


Mt.  63.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  97 

ily  name,  with  a  slight  variation ;  for,  in  the  records  of  Fran- 
cisco Gonzalez,  of  Seville,  the  royal  treasurer,  there  are  still 
extant  three  several  entries  of  money  paid,  in  1487  and  1488, 
by  order  of  the  Catholic  sovereigns,  to  him,  by  the  name  of 
Cristobal  Colomo. 

So  also,  in  a  royal  cedula  of  May  12th,  1480,  signed  by 
the  sovereigns,  the  public  functionaries  throughout  the  king- 
dom are  ordered  to  furnish  accommodations  and  facilities  to 
Cristoval  Colomo. 

And  the  Duke  of  Medina  Celi,  his  first  patron  in  Spain,  in 
a  letter  to  the  Grand  Cardinal,  dated  19th  March,  1493,  says  : 
"  I  do  not  know  whether  your  lordship  knows  that  I  had  for 
much  time  in  my  house  Cristobal  Colomo,  who  came  from  Por- 
tugal," &c. 

In  the  capitulations  entered  into  between  him  and  the  sov- 
ereigns, 17th  April,  1492,  by  which  he  was  constituted  admi- 
ral, viceroy,  and  governor  of  any  lands  he  might  discover,  we 
find  him  for  the  first  time  recorded  as  Don  Cristobal  Colon. 
In  adopting  this  appellation,  he  may  have  recurred  to  what  his 
son  Fernando  intimates  was  the  original  patrician  name  of  the 
family  in  old  times,  at  Rome—  Colonics — and  may  have  abbre- 
viated it  to  Colon,  to  adapt  it  to  the  Spanish  tongue. 

Columbus  was  a  later  version  of  his  family  name,  adopted 
occasionally  by  himself  and  his  brother  Bartholomew,  accord- 
ing to  the  pedantic  usage  of  the  day.  His  son  Fernando  says 
(chap,  xi),  that  his  father,  before  he  was  declared  admiral,  used 
to  sign  himself  "  Columbus  de  Terrarubra ; "  that  is  to  say, 
Columbus  of  Terrarossa,  a  village  or  hamlet  near  Genoa.  So 
also  his  brother  Bartholomew,  on  a  map  of  the  world,  which 
he  presented  to  Henry  VII,  dated  London,  13th  February, 
Vol.  IV— 5  (7) 


93  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1851. 

1488,  inscribed  on  it  some  Latin  verses,  of  which  the  following 
gave  the  name  and  country  of  the  author : 

"  Janua  cui  patria  est ;  no-men  cui  Bartoloinseus 
Columbus  de  Terrarubra  opus  adidit  istud." 

By  this  Latin  version  of  his  family  name,  he  has  always 
been  known  in  English  literature.  If  we  change  it,  we  ought 
to  go  back  to  the  original  Italian,  Cristoforo  Colombo.  Long 
usage,  however,  like  long  occupancy,  constitutes  a  kind  of 
right,  that  cannot  be  disturbed  without  great  inconvenience. 
Yours,  my  dear  sir,  very  truly, 

Washington  Irving. 


^Et.  68.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  99 


CHAPTER    VI. 

LETTER  TO  MRS.  STORROW — COUP  d'eTAT  OF  LOUIS  NAPOLEON — KOSSUTH — LET- 
TER TO  COUVERXEUR  KEMBLE  —  THE  COOPER  COMMEMORATION  —  BRYANT'S 
ALLUSION  TO  THE  COOLNESS  BETWEEN  COOPER  AND  IRVING — WHAT  THE  LAT- 
TER SAID  ABOUT  IT  —  A  PROSPECTUS  FOR  A  COURSE  OF  LECTURES  SENT  TO 
HIM — LETTER  THEREUPON — LETTERS  FROM  SARATOGA — ANECDOTES  OF  CHARLES 
AUGUSTUS  DAVIS  —  THE  IRVING  LITERARY  UNION  —  A  BREAKFAST  WITH  SON- 
TAG — LETTER  TO   MISS   HAMILTON — LETTER  TO   GEORGE   P.   PUTNAM. 

rrUlE  following  letter  is  addressed  to  Mrs.  Storrow, 
-*-  at  Paris,  just  after  the  world  had  been  astounded 
by  the  coup  oVetat  of  Louis  Napoleon.  New  York,  in 
addition,  had  been  filled  with  excitement  by  the  arri- 
val of  the  graceful  and  eloquent  Hungarian  patriot, 
Kossuth. 

Sunxyside,  Jan.  13,  1852. 

My  dear  Sarah  : 

We  have  all  been  quite  electrified  by  the  coup  d'etat  of  our 
friend  Louis  Napoleon.  It  is  one  of  the  most  complete  things 
of  the  kind  I  have  ever  heard  or  read  of,  and  quite  Napoleonic. 
His  uncle  could  not  have  done  the  thing  better  in  his  most  vig- 
orous day.  "Who  would  have  thought,  "  when  his  gracious 
Majesty  took  his  disjeune  with  us  at  Tillietudlem,"  he  had  so 
much  in  him  ?  You  are  in  a  fair  way  of  becoming  experi- 
enced in  warfare,  and  seasoned  to  alarms,  by  your  residence  in  a 


100  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1852. 

capital  where  every  political  change  is  a  military  convulsion. 
At  present  you  are  likely  to  have  a  great  deal  of  the  pomp 
and  parade  of  arms,  without  any  more  of  the  ragamuffin  war- 
fare of  the  barricades  ;  for  no  doubt  Louis  Napoleon  will  keep 
up  such  a  military  force  in  the  capital  as  to  render  insurrection 
hopeless.  I  should  not  be  surprised  if  there  were  a  long  spell 
of  tranquillity  in  Paris  under  his  absolute  sway.  Had  his  coup 
d'etat  been  imperfectly  effected,  or  his  election  been  but  moder- 
ately successful,  France  might  have  been  thrown  into  a  terrible 
turmoil ;  but  now  he  will  hold  her  doWn  with  a  strong  hand, 
until  she  has  kicked  out  the  last  spasm  and  convulsion  of 
French  liberty,  and  is  quiet.  You  will  then  most  probably 
have  all  the  splendors  of  the  imperial  court,  with  the  spectacles 
and  public  improvements  by  which  Napoleon  used  to  dazzle 
the  capital,  and  keep  the  Parisians  in  good  humor.  All  this,  I 
presume,  will  be  more  to  the  taste  of  temporary  residents  like 
yourself,  than  the  stern  simplicity  of  republicanism ;  and  a 
long  interval  of  quiet  would  be  a  prosperous  interval  for  the 
commercial  world ;  so  both  you  and  Storrow  may  find  your- 
selves comfortable  under  the  absolute  sway  of  Napoleon  the 
Second. 

It  is  a  pity  Van  "Wart  had  returned  to  England  before  this 
event  took  place.  He  lost  an  opportunity  of  seeing  that  grand 
spectacle,  Paris  in  a  tumult  and  under  arms ;  though  perhaps 
he  might  have  had  a  propensity  to  go  about  and  see  every- 
thing, as  I  should  have  done  in  like  case,  and  have  paid  for  the 
spectacle  by  being  shot  down  at  a  barricade.  I  never  could 
keep  at  home  when  Madrid  was  in  a  state  of  siege  and  under 
arms,  and  the  troops  bivouacking  in  every  street  and  square ; 
and  I  had  always  a  strong  hankering  to  get  near  the  gates 
when  the  fighting  was  going  on. 


An.  63.]  OP  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  101 

"We  have  had  a  great  turmoil  and  excitement,  though  of  a 
peaceful  kind,  here,  on  the  arrival  of  Kossuth,  the  Hungarian 
patriot.  New  York,  you  know,  is  always  ready  for  a  par- 
oxysm of  enthusiasm  on  the  advent  of  any  great  novelty, 
whether  a  great  singer,  a  great  dancer,  a  great  novelist,  or  a 
great  patriot ;  and  it  is  not  often  it  has  so  worthy  an  object  to 
run  mad  about.  I  have  heard  and  seen  Kossuth  both  in  public 
and  private,  and  lie  is  really  a  noble  fellow,  quite  the  beau 
ideal  of  a  poetic  hero.  There  seems  to  be  no  base  alloy  in  his 
nature.  All  is  elevated,  generous,  intellectual,  and  refined,  and 
with  his  manly  and  daring  spirit  there  is  mingled  a  tenderness 
and  sensibility  of  the  gentlest  kind.  He  is  a  kind  of  man  that 
you  would  idolize.  Yet,  poor  fellow  !  he  has  come  here  under 
a  great  mistake,  and  is  doomed  to  be  disappointed  in  the  high- 
wrought  expectations  he  had  formed  of  cooperation  on  the  part 
of  our  Government  in  the  affairs  of  his  unhappy  country. 
Admiration  and  sympathy  he  ha3  in  abundance  from  individu- 
als ;  but  there  is  no  romance  in  councils  of  state  or  deliberative 
assemblies.  There,  cool  judgment  and  cautious  policy  must 
restrain  and  regulate  the  warm  impulses  of  feeling.  I  trust  we 
are  never  to  be  carried  away,  by  the  fascinating  eloquence  of 
this  second  Peter  the  Hermit,  into  schemes  of  foreign  interfer- 
ence, that  would  rival  the  wild  enterprises  of  the  Crusades. 
****** 

I  can  give  you  but  little  of  New  York  news.  Indeed,  I 
have  not  been  much  there  since  you  were  last  here.  I  draw 
more  and  more  into  the  little  world  of  my  country  home  as 
the  silver  cord  which  binds  me  to  life  is  gradually  loosening ; 
and,  indeed,  I  am  so  surrounded  here  by  kind  and  affectionate 
hearts,  and  have  such  frequent  visits  from  one  or  other  of  the 
family,  that  I  feel  no  neod  and  but  little  inclination  to  look  be- 


102  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1S52. 

yond  for  enjoyment.  Even  the  opera  does  not  draw  me  to 
town  so  often  as  formerly,  although  we  have  had  a  very  excel- 
lent one,  and  New  York,  in  fact,  is  inundated  with  musical 
talent. 

****** 

It  is  now  half-past  twelve  at  night,  and  I  am  sitting  here 
scribbling  in  my  study,  long  after  all  the  family  are  abed  and 
asleep — a  habit  I  have  fallen  much  into  of  late.  Indeed,  I 
never  fagged  more  steadily  with  my  pen  than  I  do  at  present. 
I  have  a  long  task  in  hand,  which  I  am  anxious  to  finish,  that 
I  may  have  a  little  leisure  in  the  brief  remnant  of  life  that  is 
left  to  me.  However,  I  have  a  strong  presentiment  that  I 
shall  die  in  harness ;  and  I  am  content  to  do  so,  provided  I 
have  the  cheerful  exercise  of  intellect  to  the  last.     *     *     * 

The  first  paragraph  of  the  letter  which  follows 
refers  to  a  fortunate  investment  in  "Western  lands,  in 
which  he  had  embarked  with  his  friend  Kemble  years 
before,  and  from  which  the  returns  were  steadily  com- 
ing in : 

[ To  Gouverneur  Kemble^\ 

Sunnyside,  Feb.  5,  1852. 

My  dear  Kemble  : 

I  have  received  with  much  satisfaction  the  intelligence  of 
a  further  remittance  from  the  enchanted  purse  of  Godfrey,  and 
have  drawn  upon  "William  for  my  share. 

You  talk  of  having  made  a  jovial  tour  among  the  gastro- 
nomes of  Philadelphia,  Baltimore,  and  Washington.  So  it  is. 
Some  men  may  steal  a  horse  with  impunity,  while  others  are 
hanged  for  only  looking  over  a  hedge.     I  did  but  venture  to 


Mr.  68.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  103 

town,  about  two  weeks  since,  to  eat  a  dinner  or  two,  when  I 
returned  home  with  an  attack  of  bile,  and  have  been  confined 
to  the  house  ever  since.  I,  this  afternoon,  for  the  first  time, 
ventured  out  in  my  sleigh  to  breathe  a  little  fresh  air. 

Any  time  that  you  will  stop,  on  your  way  to  or  from  town, 
I  shall  be  happy  to  see  you,  and  to  give  you  the  best  my  hum- 
ble house  affords ;  not  pretending  to  rival  the  luxurious  aristo- 
crats with  whom  you  have  been  jollifying. 
Yours  ever,  my  dear  Kemble, 

Washington  Irving. 


February  17th,  he  had  a  visit  from  Clark,  of  the 
Knickerbocker,  and  Leutze,  the  painter,  who  came  by 
appointment  and  dined  with  him.  "  We  had  a  very 
pleasant  dinner.  I  was  much  pleased  with  Leutze," 
he  writes  to  me.  In  the  same  letter,  which  was  writ- 
ten on  Thursday,  February  19th,  though  it  is  without 
date,  he  says  :  "  I  shall  come  to  town  in  the  beginning 
of  next  week — on  Monday,  if  Webster's  address  to  the 
Historical  Society  is  on  that  night,  though  I  rather 
think  it  is  on  Tuesday.  The  Cooper  celebration  is  ad- 
vertised for  Wednesday." 

James  Fenimore  Cooper,  the  distinguished  novelist, 
had  died  on  the  14th  of  the  previous  September.  This 
meeting  to  honor  his  memory  took  place  at  Metropoli- 
tan Hall,  February  25th,  1852,  Mr.  Webster  presid- 
ing, supported  by  Bryant  and  Irving.  In  the  fine 
address  delivered  by  Mr.  Bryant  on  the  occasion,  he 
quotes   Irving's   compliment   to   the  Pathfinder,  and 


1Q4:  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1852. 

alludes  incidentally  to  "  an  unhappy  coolness  that  had 
existed  between  them."  Adverting  afterward  to  this 
passage  to  me,  Mr.  Irving  remarked  that  the  coolness 
was  all  on  Cooper's  side  ;  that  he  had  never  been  con- 
scious of  any  cause  of  difference  between  them. 

It  was  not  long  after  this  meeting,  that  the  steamer 
brought  the  tidings  of  the  death  of  the  poet  Moore,  which 
had  occurred  on  the  day  following  the  commemoration. 
It  was  mournful  news  to  Mr.  Irving,  whose  attachment 
to  the  Irish  bard  had  been  warm  and  sincere.  The 
circumstance,  too,  that  his  mind,  like  Scott's,  had  suf- 
fered eclipse  during  his  life,  he  dwelt  on  with  much 
feeling.  It  had  always  been  to  him,  in  contemplation, 
the  saddest  possible  fate.  After  a  time  he  went  back 
to  many  reminiscences  of  his  pleasant  intercourse  with 
Moore  in  Paris  and  London.  Among  other  anecdotes, 
he  mentioned  that  Moore  once  told  him  of  his  hearing 
an  eager  exclamation  from  a  carriage  as  he  was  pass- 
ing :  "  There's  Moore  !  there's  Moore  !  "  and,  looking 
round,  saw  a  lady  with  upraised  hands  and  an  expres- 
sion of  sad  disappointment,  as  much  as  to  say  :  "  Good 
heaven  !  can  that  be  Moore  ?  " 

Moore  once  introduced  him  to  a  friend  of  his  who 
had  the  misfortune  afterward  to  be  thrown  into  King's 
Bench  for  debt.  Subsequent  to  his  release,  he  offered 
to  show  Mr.  Irving  the  mysteries  of  the  prison  house, 
and  he  accompanied  him  to  spend  the  day  there. 
They  took  dinner  within,  and  Mr.  Irving  was  intro- 
duced to  several  who  seemed  to  be  enjoying  themselves 


JEt.  69.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  105 

very  much.  In  the  evening,  two  or  three  women  were 
introduced,  who  were  confined  for  debt.  They  were 
rang  out  at  nine  o'clock.  Before  they  were  rang  out, 
one  of  them  accosted  Mr.  Irving :  "  If  you  think  of 
coming  here,  let  me  give  you  a  word  of  advice.  Don't 
come  empty  handed.  With  fifty  pounds  or  so  in  the 
pocket,  one  can  make  oneself  very  comfortable." 
"  From  here,"  said  Mr.  Irving,  "  I  went  to  Holland 
Ilouse.     What  a  contrast !  " 

To  Mrs.  Storrow  he  writes,  May  29th  : 

•  *  *  My  Life  of  Washington  lags  and  drags  latterly. 
I  have  repeatedly  been  interrupted  by  turns  of  ill  health — 
bilious  attacks — which  have  dogged  me  for  the  last  two  or 
three  years,  and  obliged  me  occasionally  to  throw  by  the  pen 
and  take  to  horseback.  This  spring  I  have  been  almost  en- 
tirely idle,  from  my  mind's  absolutely  refusing  to  be  put  in  har- 
ness. I  no  longer  dare  task  it  as  I  used  to  do.  When  a  man 
is  in  his  seventieth  year,  it  is  time  to  be  cautious.  I  thought  I 
should  have  been  through  this  special  undertaking  by  this 
time ;  but  an  unexpected  turn  of  bilious  fever  in  midwinter 
put  me  all  aback,  and  now  I  have  renounced  all  further  press- 
ing myself  in  the  matter. 

****** 

I  am  glad  to  find  the  Prince  President  is  getting  on  so 
quietly,  and  that  the  10th  of  May  has  passed  off  without  ex- 
plosions. I  hope  Paris  may  be  spared,  for  a  time,  all  further 
paroxysms  either  imperial  or  republican,  and  that  the  schemes 
set  on  foot  for  its  improvement  and  embellishment  may  be  car- 
Vol.  IV.— 5* 


106  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1852. 

ried  out  before  everything  is  again  thrown  into  chaos.  Not 
that  I  expect  ever  to  enjoy  the  result  of  them ;  but  it  is  a  city 
associated  with  too  many  happy  scenes  of  my  life  not  to  be 
endeared  to  me  ;  and,  though  I  may  never  see  it  again,  I  carry 
so  familiar  a  picture  in  my  mind  of  all  its  localities,  that  I  can 
fancy  to  myself  every  new  modification  that  I  read  of.  If 
Louis  Napoleon  continues  in  power,  he  will  make  Paris  the 
centre  of  everything  splendid  and  delightful,  and  will  treat  its 
fete-lov'mg  inhabitants  to  continual  spectacle  and  pageant.  He 
seems  to  understand  the  tastes  and  humors  of  the  Parisians. 

July  15th,  he  writes  to  the  same  correspondent : 

I  write  a  hasty  line,  in  the  midst  of  preparations  for  an 

excursion.      To-morrow,    Mr.    G ,   Julia,    and   the   young 

folks,  with  S G ,  P M.,  and  H ,  set  off  on 

a  tour  to  Canada,  and  some  of  them  to  the  "White  Moun- 
tains. I  shall  accompany  them  to  Saratoga,  Lake  George,  and 
Lake  Champlain,  but  think  it  probable  I  shall  then  return  to 
the  Springs  and  take  the  Saratoga  waters.  It  is  a  hot  time  of 
the  season  for  such  an  excursion,  and  therefore  I  am  dubious 

of  following  it  out ;    but  Mr.   G could  not  conveniently 

time  it  better.  I  do  not  feel  the  same  disposition  to  travel  as 
I  did  in  younger  days.  The  quiet  of  home  is  becoming  more 
and  more  delightful  to  me,  and  I  find  it  difficult  to  tear  myself 
away  from  it,  even  for  a  short  absence.  But  I  am  sensible 
even  too  much  quietude  is  to  be  resisted.  A  man,  as  he  grows 
old,  must  take  care  not  to  grow  rusty  or  fusty  or  crusty — an 
old  bachelor  especially ;  and  for  that  reason  it  is  good  for  him 
now  and  then  to  dislodge  himself  from  the  chimney  corner. 
In  this  hot  summer  weather,  however,  how  delicious  it  is  to 


JEt.  69.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  107 

loll  in  the  shade  of  the  trees  I  have  planted,  and  feel  the  sweet 
southern  breeze  stealing  up  the  green  banks,  and  look  out  with 
half-dreaming  eye  on  the  beautiful  scenery  of  the  Hudson,  and 
build  castles  in  the  clouds,  as  I  used  to  do,  hereabouts,  in  my 
boyhood. 

"•Oh,  blessed  retirement !  friend  to  life's  decline."  How 
fortunate  has  been  my  lot  in  being  able  so  completely  to  enjoy 
it ;  so  completely  to  realize  what  was  once  the  mere  picturing 
of  my  fancy.  I  wish  you  could  see  little  Sunnyside  this  sea- 
son. I  think  it  more  beautiful  than  ever.  The  trees  and 
shrubs  and  clambering  vines  are  uncommonly  luxuriant.  "We 
never  had  so  many  singing  birds  about  the  place,  and  the  hum- 
mingbirds are  about  the  windows  continually,  after  the  flowers 
of  the  honeysuckles  and  trumpet  creepers  which  overhang 
them. 

In  the  following  letter,  addressed  to  one  of  the  in- 
mates of  Sunnyside,  we  have  a  glimpse  of  him  on  his 
tour: 

[ To  Miss  Kate  Irving.'] 

Saratoga  Speings,  July  17, 1S52. 

My  dear  Kate  : 

"We  had  a  glorious  hurry-scurry  drive  along  the  railroad — 
left  steamboats  behind  as  if  they  had  been  at  anchor.  A 
flight  of  wild  pigeons  tried  to  keep  up  with  us,  but  gave  up  in 
despair.  "We  arrived  here  between  eleven  and  twelve.  The 
weather  was  pleasant,  and  there  was  but  little  dust.     *     *     * 

I  have  found  some  old  friends  here  :  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ken- 
nedy, of  Baltimore  ;    Mr.  S ,  President  of  the  Bank  of 

Commerce,   and   his   family ;    our  neighbor,   Mr.   B ,   but 

without  his  pleasant  little  wife,  who  remains  at  home,  castle 


jOg  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1852. 

building.  By  the  by,  they  do  not  expect  to  get  into  their 
castle  before  October,  if  then. 

"We  were  all  at  a  little  hop,  as  they  call  it,  last  evening,  in 
one  of  the  saloons  of  the  hotel.  It  was  not  very  brilliant,  but 
gratified  the  small  folks,  who,  however,  could  not  summon  up 
resolution  to  dance.     *     *     * 

The  Springs  appear  to  be  quiet  and  sociable,  without  any 
attempt  at  dashing  and  flashing,  and  therefore  suit  me  better 
than  they  would  at  a  gayer  season.  I  should  like  very  well  to 
pass  some  days  here,  and  take  the  waters ;  but  we  have  march- 
ing orders  for  eleven  o'clock  for  Lake  George.  I  find  it  so 
easy  to  get  here,  and  in  such  brief  time,  that  I  shall  be  apt  to 
pay  the  Springs  another  visit.  I  have  no  idea  of  remaining 
mewed  up  at  home  until  I  grow  to  be  an  old  fogy.     *     *     * 

To  another  of  his  nieces  at  home,  he  writes  from 
the  same  place,  July  21st : 

My  dear  Mary  : 

Having  written  to  Kate  and  Sarah  (who  have  my  permis- 
sion to  show  you  my  letters,  though  in  great  confidence),  I 
now  write  a  hasty  line  to  you  in  turn.  A  letter  which  I  for- 
warded from  H to  E has  no  doubt  given  you  all  an 

idea  of  our  voyage  across  Lake  George,  and  our  visit  to  Ticon- 
deroga,  in  all  which  we  were  favored  with  delightful  weather, 
bright,  yet  temperate,  and  enjoyed  to  perfection  the  interesting 
and  beautiful  scenery.  At  Ticonderoga  I  made  up  my  mind 
to  give  up  the  visit  to  Canada,  and  return  here  and  take  the 
waters.  The  party  went  off  in  splendid  style  yesterday  morn- 
ing, at  eleven  o'clock,  in  a  fine  steamer  down  the  lake.  At 
two  o'clock  I  embarked  on  board  of  another  one  for  Whitehall, 


JSt.  69.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  109 

and,  after  a  fine  run  through  lovely  scenery,  got  into  the  rail- 
road cars  at  the  latter  place,  and  arrived  here  about  six  o'clock 
in  the  evening. 

Here,  to  my  great  joy,  I  found  Mr.  Gouverneur  Kemble, 
and  Mr.  Davis  (Major  Jack  Downing),  so  that  I  am  well  pro- 
vided with  cronies.  My  friend  Mr.  Kennedy,  however,  leaves 
here  to-morrow  for  Washington,  being  appointed  Secretary  of 
the  Navy.  His  wife,  however,  and  her  father  and  sister,  re- 
main here  ;  and  I  have  promised  Kennedy  to  pay  some  small 
attentions  to  Mrs.  Kennedy  during  his  absence,  taking  his  seat 
beside  her  at  table.     I  have,  therefore,  a  little  domestic  party 

to  attach  myself  to  in  place  of  the  G party ;  but  I  see  I 

shall  be  at  no  loss  for  acquaintances  here.  I  began  this  morn- 
ing to  take  the  waters  regularly,  and  mean  to  give  them -a  fair 
trial. 

This  morning,  after  breakfast,  I  set  off  in  a  carriage,  with 
Mr.  Kemble  and  Mr.  Stevens,  to  visit  the  scene  of  the  battle 
of  Saratoga,  about  twelve  miles  off.  We  had  a  fine  drive 
through  beautiful  scenery,  crossing  Saratoga  Lake  in  a  scow. 
The  day  was  very  warm,  but  there  was  a  pleasant  breeze 
which  tempered  it. 

After  passing  an  hour  or  two  at  the  battle  ground,  and  ac- 
quainting ourselves  with  all  its  localities,  we  returned  to  a  hotel 
on  the  banks  of  the  lake,  where  we  had  an  excellent  dinner  of 
black  bass,  lake  trout,  and  game,  and  enjoyed  ourselves  in  what 
little  Fan  would  call  "  tip-top  style."  A  pleasant  drive  home 
completed  one  of  the  most  charming  days  I  have  had  in  the 
course  of  my  charming  tour.     *     *     * 


HO  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1852. 

\To  Miss  Kate  Irving  i\ 

Saratoga,  July  24,  1852. 

My  dear  Kate  : 

I  really  don't  know  when  I  shall  get  home ;  for  either  the 
waters  or  the  company  agree  so  well  with  me  in  this  place, 
that  I  find  myself  in  first-rate  health  and  spirits,  and  very  much 
tempted  to  prolong  my  sojourn.  It  is  really  delightful  to  me 
to  have  this  social  outbreak  after  my  long  course  of  quiet  life. 
I  have  found  some  old  friends,  and  have  made  new  acquaint- 
ances here,  all  very  cordial  and  agreeable.  *  *  *  "We 
have  fine  music,  sometimes  professional,  sometimes  by  ama- 
teurs, and  all  of  an  excellent  quality.  This  morning  we  had 
splendid  performances  on  the  piano,  in  the  saloon,  by  Mr.  Bull 
(or  some  such  name),  I  believe  a  Norwegian,  and  one  of  the 
best  performers  on  that  instrument  I  have  ever  heard.  After- 
ward we  had  charming  singing  by  Miss  L S ,  who 

has  cultivated  her  fine  voice  in  a  high  degree  since  I  heard 
her,  two  or  three  years  since. 

****** 

Gouverneur  Kemble  returned  yesterday  to  his  old  bach- 
elor's nest  in  the  Highlands.  I  did  all  I  could  to  keep  him 
here,  but  in  vain.  I  wonder  he  should  be  so  anxious  to  get 
home,  when  he  has  no  womankind  to  welcome  him,  as  I  have. 
Yet  even  I,  you  see,  can  keep  away. 

There  are  some  very  agreeable  talking  ladies  here,  and  a 
great  number  of  very  pretty -looking  ones ;  two  or  three  with 
dark  Spanish  eyes,  that  I  sit  and  talk  to,  and  look  under  their 
dark  eyelashes,  and  think  of  dear  old  Spain. 

Mr.  Frank  Granger  is  here,  and  has  joined  the  Kennedy 
set,  with  which  I  am  in  a  manner  domesticated.  I  am  strong 
in  the  belief  that  Mr.  Granger  will  have  the  situation  of  Post- 


^t.  69.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  m 

master  offered  to  him,  and  that  he  will  accept  of  it ;  though  he 
shakes  his  head  whenever  it  is  mentioned.     I  regret  extremely 

that  A is  not  with  him.     She  is  on  a  visit  to  a  friend  at 

Niagara. 

It  is  dinner  time,  and  I  must  travel  down  stairs  from  my 
room,  which  is  near  the  roof.  Give  my  love  to  all  the  house- 
hold. Your  affectionate  uncle, 

"Washington  Irving. 

To  the  same  correspondent  he  writes,  the  day  fol- 
lowing : 

*  *  *  In  my  letter  of  yesterday,  I  told  you  I  was 
going  to  a  children's  party  at  a  gentleman's  country  seat  in  the 
neighborhood.  *  *  *  The  house  was  of  stone,  spacious, 
and  solid,  built  in  the  skirts  of  what  had  once  been  a  forest, 
but  which  was  now  thinned  out  into  groves  and  clumps  and 
green  lawns,  until  it  had  the  air  of  British  park  scenery.  A 
platform  had  been  laid  beneath  some  spreading  trees,  and  here 
the  little  fairy  people  danced,  while  the  grown-up  people  sat 
around  in  groups.  It  was  one  of  the  most  charming  little 
fetes  of  the  kind  that  I  have  ever  seen.  There  were  beautiful 
children,  very  beautifully  dressed,  from  the  age  of  two  and 
three  years  upward.     I  felt  like  a  patriarch  among  them ;  for 

among  the  spectators  was  Mrs.  J ,  an  aunt  of  Mr.  Finlay, 

whom  I  had  danced  with  in  my  younger  days,  when  she  was  a 

Miss  B ,  but  who  was  now  a  venerable  grandmother  ;  and 

there  was  a  maiden  lady,   Miss  B L ,  whom  I  had 

likewise  danced  with  nearly  fifty  years  ago.  I  sat  by  them, 
and  talked  of  old  times,  and  looked  at  the  dancing  group,  in 
which  we  recognized  the  descendants  (some  two  or  three  gen- 


H2  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1852. 

erations  off  )  of  some  of  our  early  contemporaries.  To  strike  a 
balance,  however,  I  paid  some  small  attentions  to  two  or  three 
little  belles  from  six  to  ten  years  of  age,  and  was  received 
with  smiles  that  might  have  made  me  vain  had  I  been  fifty  or 
sixty  years  younger. 

****** 

I  think  it  is  the  excitement  of  this  cheerful  society  in  which 
I  am  mingling,  even  more  than  the  waters,  which  has  had  an 
effect  of  lifting  me  into  a  more  elastic  buoyancy  of  frame  and 
spirits  than  I  have  experienced  for  a  long  time ;  and  I  am  con- 
vinced, that  if  I  had  come  up  here  for  a  few  days  when  I  felt 
so  heavy  and  bilious,  several  weeks  since,  I  should  have  swept 
all  the  clouds  out  of  my  system  immediately. 

Give  my  love  to  your  father,  and  to  such  of  the  family  as 
you  have  with  you. 

Your  affectionate  uncle, 

Washington  Irving. 

Two  days  later,  lie  writes  again  to  the  same,  from 
Saratoga : 

I  expected  before  this  to  have  seen  you  face  to  face. 
Here,  however,  I  linger,  as  it  were,  with  one  foot'  in  the 
stirrup ;  and  as  I  may  continue  to  linger  indefinitely,  I 
have  thought  proper  to  scrawl  you  another  line.  The  truth 
is,  I  am  passing  my  time  so  agreeably,  and  find  my  so- 
journ here  operating  so  admirably  on  health  and  spirits, 
that  I  am  continually  tempted  to  prolong  it.  I  am  linking 
up  so  many  old  friendships  that  had  almost  run  out,  and 
meeting,  on  the  easiest  of  terms,  so  many  pleasant  and  inter- 
esting people  from  all  parts  of  the   Union,  that  every  day 


At.  69.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  H3 

brings  some  new  gratification  and  excitement.  One  sees  soci- 
ety here  without  the  trouble,  formality,  late  hours,  and  crowded 
rooms  of  New  York.  This  hotel  in  which  I  am  quartered  (the 
United  States)  is  a  little  world  of  itself,  with  its  spacious  sa- 
loons, long  galleries,  broad  piazzas,  and  shady  walks ;  where 
there  is  a  constant  succession  of  polite  society  circulating,  and 
you  may  throw  yourself  in  the  current,  or  remain  aloof  and 
look  on,  just  as  you  please.  I  think  I  have  never  seen  a 
watering  place  on  either  side  of  the  Atlantic,  where  things 
were  on  a  better  footing,  and  better  arranged,  than  in  this, 
especially  at  the  particular  hotel  in  which  I  reside. 

I  take  the  waters  every  morning,  and  think  they  have  a 
great  effect  on  my  system.  I  have  entirely  got  rid  of  all  bil- 
ious symptoms,  and  find  my  mental  faculties  refreshed,  invigor- 
ated, and  brightened  up.  I  have  no  doubt  I  derive  some  bene- 
fit from  gossiping  away  part  of  the  day  in  very  agreeable 
female  society,  in  which  I  experience  such  favorable  treatment 
as  inclines  me  to  think  old  gentlemen  are  coming  into  fashion. 
They  won't  allow  me  for  a  moment  to  enrol  myself  in  the 
respectable  order  of  old  fogies.  My  worthy  coexecutor  and 
cotrustee,  Mr.  Lord,*  is  here  with  his  wife  and  daughter,  and 
I  am  to  take  my  afternoon's  drive  with  them.     Yesterday  I 

had  a  beautiful  drive  among  the  hills  with  Mrs.  R and  a 

party  in  her  carriage,  and  saw  a  succession  of  lovely  land- 
scapes, such  as  I  had  no  idea  were  to  be  found  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  Saratoga. 

Early  in   August,   Mr.   Irving    left    Saratoga   for 

*  Daniel  Lord,  an  eminent  counsellor  of  New  York,  one  of  the  execu- 
tors of  John  Jacob  Astor,  and  a  trustee  of  the  Astor  Library. 
Vol.  IV.— (8) 


114  LIFE  AND  LETTEKS  [1852. 

home,  accompanied  on  his  journey  as  far  as  Troy  by 
Charles  Augustus  Davis,  the  "  Major  Jack  Downing  " 
and  "  old  crony  "  mentioned  in  one  of  the  preceding 
letters  as  sojourning  at  the  Springs  with  his  family. 
From  some  reminiscences  of  Mr.  Irving  at  this  period, 
kindly  furnished  me  by  this  gentleman,  whose  gro- 
tesque history  of  "  The  First  Locomotive"  the  readers 
of  the  Knickerbocker  Magazine  will  not  easily  forget, 
I  select  the  following  : 

No  one  seemed  more  unconscious  of  the  celebrity  to  which 
he  had  attained.  In  this  there  was  not  a  particle  of  affecta- 
tion. Nothing  he  shrank  from  with  greater  earnestness  and 
sincerity  and  (I  may  add)  pertinacity,  than  any  attempt  to 
lionize  him.  Although  he  was  at  once  surrounded,  at  Sara- 
toga, by  a  very  gay  and  brilliant  circle  assembled  there  from  near 
and  distant  parts  of  our  Union,  he  was  sure  to  withdraw  at 
once  from  any  circle  that  attempted  to  make  a  lion  of  him. 
He  much  preferred  sauntering  out  alone,  or  with  some  familiar 
friend — trusting  to  any  accidental  event  that  might  occur  to  in- 
dulge his  own  whim  or  fancy,  or  crack  a  joke,  as  occasion  might 
call. 

In  one  of  these  rambles,  I  recollect  his  attention  was  ar- 
rested by  the  crying  and  sobbing  of  a  poor  little  barefooted 
and  ragged  boy,  wearing  an  old  "  cone-shaped  "  hat  that  had 
lost  all  its  original  form.  He  had  just  been  punished  by  an 
elder  sister,  a  thin,  slatternly  young  vixen,  who  was  following 
him.  Mr.  Irving  at  once,  reading  the  whole  story,  turned 
aside  from  our  route,  and  commenced,  in  a  most  friendly  and 
affectionate  tone,  with,  "  I  know  what  is  the  matter  Avith  my 
little  boy.     It  is  enough  to  make  anybody  cry,  to  wear  a  hat 


Mt.  69.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  115 

that  falls  down  over  his  eyes  so  he  can't  see,  and  stubbing  his 
little  toes.  I  see  the  cause  of  all  this  trouble ; "  and,  with 
that  he  took  off  the  old  hat,  and  rolling  its  flabby  brim  inward, 
replaced  it  on  the  little  boy's  head.  "  There,"  said  he  ;  "  that 
is  all  rio-ht  now."  Both  the  children,  confounded  by  the  event, 
stood  for  a  time  silent,  and  then  moved  off,  chuckling  together 
at  its  oddity ;  while  Mr.  Irving,  resuming  his  walk,  seemed  not 
less  gratified  at  his  success  in  turning  a  scene  of  grief  into  one 
of  gladness. 

And  in  this  connection  I  will  venture  to  relate  another  sim- 
ple incident,  showing  his  interest  in  children.  On  his  return 
from  Saratoga,  I  accompanied  him  a  portion  of  his  way  home- 
ward. "We  were  seated  together,  and  directly  in  front  of  us 
sat  an  anxious  mother  with  three  children — one,  an  infant,  in 
her  arms,  and  the  other  two  (a  little  boy  and  girl  of  some  two 
and  three  years  of  age)  giving  the  mother  great  trouble,  and 
waking  the  infant  by  striving  to  clamber  over  her  to  look  out 
at  the  window.  Mr.  Irving  at  once  interposed,  and,  lifting 
each  alternately  over  to  his  lap,  and  looking  at  his  watch,  said  : 
"  Now,  three  minutes  for  each  to  look  out  of  my  window ; " 
and  began  lifting  them  over  and  replacing  them,  each  in  turn, 
accordingly,  till  they  were  tired  of  it,  though  much  gratified. 
"  Ah,  sir,"  said  the  relieved  mother,  "  any  one  can  see  that 
you  are  a  kind  father  of  a  big  family."  This  amused  him 
greatly,  and  amply  rewarded  him  for  his  interposition.  He 
would  not  spoil  a  good  joke  by  refutation  or  controversy. 

After  his  return  home,  we  all  missed  him  so  much,  I  was 
induced  (at  the  instance,  also,  of  many  friends)  to  renew  the 
invitation,  and  ask  his  return ;  to  which  I  received  the  follow- 
ing reply : 


HQ  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1851 

Bunntside,  Aug.  lo,  1852. 

My  dear  Davis  : 

Your  letter  found  me  lolling  under  the  trees,  and  rumi- 
nating, like  one  of  my  own  cows,  over  the  past  pleasures  of  Sara' 
toga.  It  was  most  welcome,  smacking,  as  it  did,  of  that  emi- 
nently social  resort,  and  bringing  back  the  flavor  of  the  happy 
hours  passed  there.  It  will  take  me  some  time,  however,  ta 
get  over  the  excitement  of  gay  scenes,  gay  company,  and  tho 
continual  stimulus  of  varied  and  animated  conversation,  and 
bring  myself  down  to  the  meek  quiet  of  country  life,  and  the 
sober  equanimity  of  Sunnyside.  You  who  are  always  enjoy- 
ing these  gay  chirpings  of  society,  have  no  idea  of  what  an 
effect  such  a  long  draught  has  upon  one  of  my  present  abste- 
mious habits.  I  really  think,  for  a  part  of  the  time,  I  was  in  a 
state  of  mental  intoxication.  I  trust,  however,  it  will  be  bene- 
ficial in  the  end  ;  as  I  have  heard  it  said  by  old-fashioned  doc- 
tors, in  the  days  of  hard  drinking,  that  "  it  was  good  for  a 
man's  health  now  and  then  to  get  tipsy."  Still  it  will  not  do 
for  me  to  repeat  the  revel  very  soon ;  so  I  am  not  to  be 
tempted  by  your  suggestion  of  another  visit  to  Saratoga 
during  the  present  season.  That  must  be  for  next  summer's 
outbreak. 

I  envy  those  who  have  quiet  conversations  with  Alboni 
about  her  art.  I  delight  in  conversations  of  the  kind  with 
eminent  artists,  whom  I  have  always  found  very  communica- 
tive and  interesting  when  properly  drawn  out.  So  I  have 
found  Talma,  Pasta,  Mrs.  Siddons,  and  Cooke,  who  were  the 
greatest  in  their  respective  lines  that  I  ever  was  acquainted 
with.  I  was  much  pleased  with  Alboni.  She  appears  to  be 
of  a  frank,  happy,  joyous  nature,  and  I  think  it  is  her  rich, 


JEt.  69.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  117 

mellow,   genial  temperament,  which  pours  itself   forth  in  her 
voice  like  liquid  amber. 

I  thank  you,  my  dear  friend,  for  saying  a  kind  word  for 
me  to  such  of  my  acquaintances  and  intimates  at  Saratoga  as  I 
came  away  without  seeing.  I  made  several  delightful  ac- 
quaintances there,  whom  it  is  probable,  considering  my  time 
of  life  and  my  retired  habits,  I  may  never  see  again ;  yet  I 
shall  always  retain  them  in  choice  recollection.  Eeally,  such 
an  easy,  social  intercourse  with  the  intelligent,  the  matured,  the 
young,  the  gay,  and  the  beautiful,  rallies  one  back  from  the 
growing  apathy  of  age,  and  reopens  one's  heart  to  the  genial 
sunshine  of  society. 

Farewell,  my  good  friend.  Give  my  kind  remembrance  to 
your  wife,   and  that   "  discreet  princess,"  your  daughter ;  and 

tell  Mrs.  R I  shall  ever  remember  her  as  one  of  the  most 

striking  and  interesting  features  of  my  visit  to  Saratoga. 

Yours,  very  faithfully  and  affectionately, 

Washington  Irving. 

Two  days  after  his  return  from  Saratoga,  he  ad- 
dressed the  following  letter,  in  response  to  an  intima- 
tion that  a  club  of  young  men  of  the  city  of  New 
York  had  associated  for  literary  improvement,  and 
denominated  themselves  the  "  Irving  Literary  Union." 

[To  Richard  C.  McCormicki] 

Sun-ntside,  Aug.  9, 1852. 

My  dear  Sir  : 

Three  weeks'  absence  from  home  has  prevented  an  earlier 
reply  to  your  letter  of  the  21st  of  July,  and  to  the  letter  from 
your  Society  which  accompanied  it.     I  now  thank  you  heartily 


118  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1852. 

for  the  kind  expressions  of  your  letter,  and  assure  you  that  I 
appreciate  most  deeply  the  esteem  and  goodwill  manifested  by 
yourself  and  your  associates  in  adopting  my  name  as  a  desig- 
nation for  your  literary  union. 

To  inspire  such  sentiments  in  the  bosoms  of  the  young  and 
ingenuous,  is  one  of  the  purest  and  dearest  rewards  that  an 
author  can  receive ;  and  as  my  long  and  desultory  career  is 
drawing  to  a  close,  I  regard  such  demonstrations  on  the  part 
of  my  youthful  countrymen  as  a  soothing  assurance  that,  with 
all  my  shortcomings,  and  however  imperfectly  I  may  have  per- 
formed my  part,  I  have  not  lived  entirely  in  vain. 

"With  great  respect,  your  obliged  and  humble  servant, 

"Washington  Irving. 

"  "When  this  club  held  its  anniversary  gatherings," 
says  Mr.  McCormick,  "  which  were  public,  and  occa- 
sions of  peculiar  interest  to  its  members  and  their 
friends,  an  invitation  to  Mr.  Irving  to  attend  was 
always  sent,  and  always  promptly  and  courteously- 
accepted  ;  but  the  modest  author  never  managed  to 
get  to  the  city  !  " 

A  breakfast  with  the  delightful  prima  donna, 
Sontag,  whose  early  appearance  he  had  witnessed  at 
Prague,  some  thirty  years  before,  is  thus  alluded  to  in 
the  following  letter : 

[To  Miss  Mary  M.  Hamilton^ 

Scnntsidb,  Sept.  20, 1852. 

My  dear  Miss  Hamilton  : 

"When  I  engaged  to  join  your  party  on  the  28th,  I  was  not 


jEt.  69.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  119 

aware  that  the  following  day  was  the  last  "Wednesday  in  the 
month,  when  I  have  to  attend  the  stated  meetings  of  the 
executors  of  the  Astor  estate,  and  the  trustees  of  the  Astor 
Library.  I  cannot  be  absent  on  this  occasion,  as  it  is  the  last 
meeting  of  the  Library  board  previous  to  Mr.  Cogswell's  de- 
parture for  Europe.  Should  you  set  off  on  Tuesday,  I  can  join 
your  party  at  any  designated  place  on  Thursday. 

I  set  off  this  morning  for  Mr.  Kemble's,  in  the  Highlands, 
to  be  absent  until  the  last  of  the  week. 

How  the  breakfast  went  off  at  Mr.  King's,  at  Highwood ; 
and  how  the  Sontag  looked  and  moved  and  conducted  herself, 
and  how  I  admired,  but  did  not  talk  with  her ;  and  how  I  re- 
turned to  town  with  the  S s,  in  their  carriage ;  and  how  I 

went  with  Mrs.  S to  Niblo's  theatre  ;  and  how  Mr.  S 

was  to  join  us  there,  and  how  he  did  not  join  us  there,  but  left 
me  to  be  her  cavalier  for  the  whole  evening ;  and  how  I  won- 
dered that  he  should  trust  such  a  charming  wife  with  such  a 
gay  young  fellow  :  all  this,  and  more  also,  I  will  recount  unto 
you  when  next  we  meet.     Until  then,  farewell. 

Yours  truly,  Washington  Irving. 

November  10th,  1852,  he  writes  to  Mrs.  Storrow : 

George  Sumner  has  been  twice  up  here  :  once  on  a  visit  to 

us,  and  another  time  at  the  H s.     He  was,  as  usual,  full  of 

floating  history  about  the  men  and  the  events  of  the  day ;  hav- 
ing mingled  in  the  most  striking  scenes  and  among  the  most 
striking  people  of  the  countries  in  which  he  has  travelled  and 
sojourned.  I  really  was  heartily  glad  to  meet  him  again,  for 
he  is  altogether  one  of  the  most  curiously  instructed  American 
travellers  that  I  have  ever  met  with.     Mr.  Mitchell  (Ike  Mar- 


120  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1852. 

vel,  author  of  Reveries  of  a  Bachelor,  Dream  Life,  &c.)  came 
up  from  town  and  passed  a  day  with  us  while  Sumner  was 
making  his  visit.  *  *  *  I  have  taken  a  great  liking  to 
him,  both  as  an  author  and  a  man. 

I  close  the  year  with  the  following  letter  to  his 
publisher,  who  had  sent  him,  the  day  before  Christ- 
mas, a  parcel  of  books  for  the  acceptance  of  "the 
young  ladies,"  with  the  remark  that  it  would  require 
a  good  many  more  if  he  were  to  begin  even  to  suggest 
the  obligations  which  had  been  incurred  by  the  honor- 
able and  pleasant  privilege  of  being  associated  with 
his  name  even  in  his  "  humble  capacity." 

[To  George  P.  Putnam,  Esq] 

Sunntside,  Dec.  27, 1852. 

'My  deae  Sir  : 

Your  parcel  of  books  reached  me  on  Christmas  morning. 
Your  letter,  not  being  addressed  to  Dearman,  went  to  Tarry- 
town,  and  did  not  come  to  hand  until  to-day. 

My  nieces  join  with  me  in  thanking  you  for  the  beautiful 
books  you  have  sent  us,  and  you  and  Mrs.  Putnam  for  your 
wishes  for  a  merry  Christmas  and  a  happy  New  Year. 

For  my  own  especial  part,  let  me  say  how  sensibly  I  appre- 
ciate the  kind  tone  and  expressions  of  your  letter ;  but  as  to 
your  talk  of  obligations  to  me,  I  am  conscious  of  none  that 
have  not  been  fully  counterbalanced  on  your  part ;  and  I  take 
pleasure  in  expressing  the  great  satisfaction  I  have  derived, 
throughout  all  our  intercourse,  from  your  amiable,  obliging, 
and  honorable  conduct.     Indeed,  I  never  had  dealings   with 


jEt.  69.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  121 

any  man,  whether  in  the  "way  of  business  or  friendship,  more 
perfectly  free  from  any  alloy. 

That  those  dealings  have  been  profitable,  is  mainly  owing 
to  your  own  sagacity  and  enterprise.  You  had  confidence  in 
the  continued  vitality  of  my  writings.  *  *  *  You  called 
them  again  into  active  existence,  and  gave  them  a  circulation 
that  I  believe  has  surprised  even  yourself.  In  rejoicing  at 
their  success,  my  satisfaction  is  doubly  enhanced  by  the  idea 
that  you  share  in  the  benefits  derived  from  it. 

"Wishing  you  that  continued  prosperity  in  business  which 
your  upright,  enterprising,  tasteful,  and  liberal  mode  of  con- 
ducting it  merits,  and  is  calculated  to  insure ;  and  again  in- 
voking on  you  and  yours  a  happy  New  Year, 

I  remain,  very  truly  and  heartily,  yours, 

"Washington  Irving. 

Vol.  IV.— 6 


122  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1853. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

AT  NEW  YORK,  ON  HIS  WAT  TO  BALTIMORE — LETTER  FROM  BALTIMORE — MEETS 
THACKERAY  IN  THE  CARS— HOSPITABLE  RECEPTION  AT  BALTIMORE — DEPAR- 
TURE FOR  WASHINGTON — LETTERS  FROM  WASHINGTON — AT  WORK  AMONG  THE 
ARCHIVES  OF  THE  STATE  DEPARTMENT — A  MINIATURE  ANCHOR  PRESENTED  TO 
HIM — ITS  HISTORY — TABLE  TIPPING — REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  FAMILY  OF  THE 
EMPRESS  OF  FRANCE — LETTER  TO  MRS.  KENNEDY,  AFTER  HIS  RETURN  TO 
SUNNTSIDE. 

TN  the  course  of  the  preceding  year,  Mr.  Irving  had 
promised  his  friend  Kennedy,  the  Secretary  of  the 
Navy,  to  pay  him  a  visit  at  Washington  ;  and  "  hav- 
ing occasion  to  rummage  the  public  archives  for  his- 
torical information,"  he  sets  out  on  his  journey  in  the 
beginning  of  January. 

January  13th,  he  writes  from  New  York  on  his 
way  :  "The  day  of  my  arrival  in  town  I  tried  to  get  a 
ticket  to  hear  Sontag,  but,  finding  there  was  trickery 
in  disposing  of  seats,  I  went  off  in  a  huff  to  the  other 
house,  and  saw  Alboni  in  the  Somnambula,  which  she 
performed  to  admiration." 

On  another  evening  before  his  start,  "  feeling  in 
want  of  city  amusement,"  he  writes,  "  I  went  to  Wal- 
lack's,  and  saw  the  old  play  of  the  Road  to  Ruin, 
played  in  excellent  style."     He  also  went  to  a  ball, 


JEt.  69.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  123 

where,  though  after  the  opera,  he  found  himself 
"  among  the  early  ones."  "  I  think  it,"  he  writes  to 
an  unmarried  niece,  "  one  of  the  pleasantest  balls  I 
have  been  at  for  a  long  time,  inasmuch  as  I  sat  all  the 

evening  on  a  sofa  beside  N ,  in  the  front  room  up 

stairs,  where  they  received  their  guests,  so  as  to  leave 
the  rooms  down  stairs  free  for  the  dancers.  In  this  way 
I  saw  a  great  part  of  the  company  in  the  course  of  the 
evening,  without  fatigue,  and  without  going  into  the 
ballrooms  to  be  crowded  and  cramped,  and  kicked  into 
a  corner.  Besides,"  he  adds,  with  a  touch  of  fun, 
"  the  dances  that  are  the  fashion  put  me  out  of  counte- 
nance, and  are  not  such  as  a  gentleman  of  my  years 
ought  to  witness." 

On  the  17th,  he  had  reached  Baltimore,  as  will 
appear  by  the  following  letter  : 

[7b  Miss  Catherine  Irving,  Sunny side.] 

Baltimore,  Jan.  17, 1853. 

My  dear  Kate  : 

In  a  letter  to  Sarah,  I  gave  an  account  of  my  whereabouts 
and  whatabouts  while  in  New  York,  last  week,  where  I  was 
detained  beyond  my  intended  time  by  a  snowstorm.  I  was 
rather  in  a  humdrum  mood  during  my  sojourn,  and,  although  I 
had  big  dinners,  gay  balls,  Italian  operas,  and  Banvard's  Dio- 
rama to  entertain  me,  I  would  willingly  have  stolen  back  to 
"  my  native  plains,"  and  given  up  the  "gay  world"  and  all 
terrestrial  joys.  The  last  evening  of  my  detention,  however, 
the  weather  and  my  dull  humor  cleared  up  ;  the  latter,  doubt- 
less, under   the   influence   of   Sontag's   charms,   who,   in   the, 


124  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1853. 

"  Daughter  of  the  Regiment,"  looked,  played,  and  sang 
divinely. 

The  next  morning  proving  bright  and  fair,  I  broke  up  my 
encampment,  and  got  down  to  the  foot  of  Cortlandt  street,  in 
time  for  the  ferry  boat  which  took  over  passengers  for  the 
express  train.  I  looked  forward  to  a  dull,  wintry  journey,  and 
laid  in  a  stock  of  newspapers  to  while  away  time ;  but,  in  the 
gentlemen's  cabin  of  the  ferry  boat,  whom  should  I  see  but 
Thackeray.  We  greeted  each  other  cordially.  He  was  on  his 
-way  to  Philadelphia,  to  deliver  a  course  of  lectures.  "We  took 
seats  beside  each  other  in  the  cars,  and  the  morning  passed  off 
delightfully.  He  seems  still  to  enjoy  his  visit  to  the  United 
States  exceedingly,  and  enters  into  our  social  life  with  great 
relish.  He  had  made  a  pleasant  visit  to  Boston ;  seen  much 
of  Prescott  (whom  he  speaks  highly  of ),  Ticknor,  Longfellow, 
&c.  Said  the  Bostonians  had  published  a  smashing  criticism 
on  him ;  which,  however,  does  not  seem  to  have  ruffled  his 
temper,  as  I  understand  he  cut  it  out  of  the  newspaper,  and 
enclosed  it  in  a  letter  to  a  female  friend  in  New  York. 
*...*     *     I  arrived,  after  dark,  at  Baltimore. 

I  had  to  inquire  my  way  to  Mr.  Kennedy's,  or  rather  Mr. 
Gray's,  as  Mr.  K.  shares  the  house  of  his  father-in-law  in  Balti- 
more. The  door  was  opened  by  Mr.  Gray's  old  factotum  and 
valley-de-sham  Phil,  an  old  negro  who  formed  a  great  friend- 
ship with  me  at  Saratoga  last  summer,  and,  I  am  told,  rather 
values  himself  on  our  intimacy.  The  moment  he  recognized 
me,  he  seized  me  by  the  hand  with  such  exclamations  of  joy, 
that  he  brought  out  old  Mr.  Gray,  and  then  Miss  Gray,  into 
the  hall ;  and  then  a  scene  took  place  worthy  of  forming  a 
companion  piece  to  the  return  of  the  prodigal  son.  In  a  mo- 
ment I  felt  myself  in  my  paternal  home,  and  have  ever  since 


Mr.  69.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  125 

been  a  favored  child  of  the  house.  To  be  sure,  there  was  no 
fatted  calf  killed ;  but  there  was  a  glorious  tea  table  spread, 
with  broiled  oysters  and  other  substantial  accessories  worthy  of 
a  traveller's  appetite. 

Here,  then,  I  am  delightfully  fixed,  in  this  most  hospitable, 
spacious,  comfortable  mansion,  with  Kennedy's  library  and 
study  at  my  command,  where  I  am  scribbling  this  letter,  and 
with  my  friend  Phil  ever  at  hand  to  take  care  of  me,  and 
attend  to  all  my  wants  and  wishes. 

On  the  morrow,  he  writes  : 

This  day  we  have  a  family  gathering  at  Mr.  Gray's,  at  din- 
ner, and  music  in  the  evening,  the  old  gentleman  being  a  great 
amateur.  To-morrow  morning  I  take  my  departure  in  the 
nine-o'clock  train  for  Washington,  where  the  cars  take  me  in 
less  than  two  hours.  I  shall  leave  Baltimore  with  regret,  for 
they  have  made  me  completely  at  home  here,  and  I  have 
passed  my  time  very  much  to  my  taste ;  having  a  capital 
library  to  retire  to  when  I  wish  to  be  alone,  or  to  exercise  my 
pen,  and  my  old  friend  Phil  to  hover  about  me  like  a  guardian 
spirit — though  rather  a  black  one. 

Mr.  Gray  is  a  capital  specimen  of  the  old  Irish  gentleman 
— warmhearted,  benevolent,  well  informed,  and,  like  myself, 
very  fond  of  music  and  pretty  faces,  so  that  our  humors  jump 
together  completely.  I  believe  it  was  our  sympathies  in  these 
two  last  matters  which  linked  us  together  so  cordially  last  sum- 
mer, and  made  him  exact  a  promise  from  me  to  visit  him  this 
winter. 

From  Washington,  he  writes  to  Sarah  Irving,  at 
Sunnyside : 


126  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1853. 

I  am  most  comfortably  fixed  at  Mr.  Kennedy's,  with  a 
capital  room,  and  everything  snug  about  me  for  writing  or 
reading  or  lounging.  Mrs.  K.  received  me  in  her  own  frank, 
kind  manner.  She  could  not  treat  me  better  even  if  she  vjere  a 
niece.      I  understand  my  friend  Major  Jack  Downing  is  in 

"Washington  with  his  family  ;  also  A H ,  who  is  here 

pleading  a  cause  before  the  Supreme  Court.  I  found  my  dar- 
ling little  friend,  Mrs.  S ,  on  a  morning  visit  to  Mrs.  K.,  on 

my  arrival,  so  that  I  see  I  shall  meet  with  lots  of  agreeable 
company.  I  wish,  however,  to  keep  out  of  the  whirl  as  long 
as  I  can,  that  I  may  get  among  the  archives  of  the  State  De- 
partment, before  I  am  carried  off  my  feet  by  engagements. 
On  Friday  evening  is  the  President's  levee,  which  I  shall 
attend,  and  then  I  shall  be  launched. 

And  launched  lie  was,  if  not  immersed,  as  we  shall 
see  by  the  letters  which  follow  : 

[To  Hiss  Catherine  Irving,  Sunnyside.~\ 

Washisgtos,  Jan.  23, 1S53. 

My  dear  Kate  : 

I  am  in  the  midst  of  terrible  dissipation,  and  in  great  dan- 
ger of  being  carried  away  by  it,  in  spite  of  all  my  efforts  at 
sober  life.  I  have  three  young  belles  in  the  house  with  me, 
on  a  visit  to  Mrs.  K.  They  are  very  pretty,  very  amiable, 
very  ladylike,  and  one  of  them  very  musical;  and  1  could 
make  myself  very  happy  at  home  with  them,  if  Tom,  Dick, 
and  Harry  out  of  doors  would  leave  me  alone  ;  but  I  am 
assailed  with  invitations  of  all  kinds,  which  I  find  it  impossible 
entirely  to  fight  off. 

Yesterday  I  made  a  delightful  excursion,  with  some  of  oui 
household  and  some  of  the  voung  folks  of  the  President's  fanv 


^Et.  69.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  127 

ily,  down  the  Potomac,  in  a  steamer,  to  Mount  Vernon.  "We 
began  by  a  very  pleasant  breakfast  at  the  President's,  -where 
we  met  Mr.  Augustine  Washington,  the  proprietor  of  Mount 
Vernon,  who  accompanied  us  on  the  excursion.  The  day  was 
superb.  It  was  like  one  of  those  Indian  summer  days  we  had 
just  before  I  left  home.     On  board  the  steamer  we  were  joined 

by  Mrs.  D ,  and  two  very  agreeable  ladies  from  Boston. 

Everything  conspired  to  render  our  visit  to  Mount  Vernon  a 
very  interesting  and  delightful  one ;  and  we  returned  in  the 
steamer  by  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 

In  the  evening  I  was  at  the  President's  levee.  It  was  very 
crowded.  I  met  with  many  interesting  people  there,  and  saw 
many  beauties  from  all  parts  of  the  Union ;  but  I  had  no 
chance  of  enjoying  conversation  with  any  of  them,  for  in  a 
little  while  the  same  scene  began  that  took  place  here  eleven 
years  ago,  on  my  last  visit.  I  had  to  shake  hands  with  man, 
woman,  and  child,  who  beset  me  on  all  sides,  until  I  felt  as  if 
it  was  becoming  rather  absurd,  and  struggled  out  of  the 
throng.  From  the  levee  I  was  whirled  away  to  a  ball,  where 
I  found  my  friend  Madame  Calderon,  the  Spanish  Minister's 
lady,  and  was  getting  a  world  of  chat  about  Madrid  and  our 
acquaintances  there,  when  the  system  of  hand  shaking  began 
again,  and  I  retreated,  and  came  home. 

It  is  certainly  very  gratifying  to  meet  with  such  testimo- 
nials of  esteem  and  cordial  goodwill,  but,  at  the  same  time,  it 
is  extremely  embarrassing. 

***<*„*• 

This  morning  I  have  taken  my  seat  as  an  honorary  mem- 
ber at  a  meeting  of  the  Smithsonian  Institute.  It  is  a  noble 
institution,  and  is  beginning  to  make  itself  known  throughout 
the  world.      The   edifice  is  a  very  imposing  one,  of  brown 


128  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1854 

stone,  in  the  Norman  style  of  architecture,  built  by  Kenwick ; 
the  interior,  excepting  part  of  the  wings,  yet  unfinished. 
****** 
I  have  been  much  pleased  with  what  I  have  seen  of  the 
President  and  his  family,  and  have  been  most  kindly  received 
by  them.  Indeed,  I  should  have  a  heart  like  a  pebble  stone, 
if  I  was  insensible  to  the  very  cordial  treatment  I  experience 
wherever  I  go.  The  only  fault  I  find  is,  that  I  am  likely  to  be 
killed  by  kindness. 

With  my  best  love  to  all  at  my  dear  little  home, 
Your  affectionate  uncle, 

"Washington  Irving. 

January  27th,  lie  writes  to  his  niece  Sarah  : 

Yesterday  I  was  rather  good  for  nothing,  having  passed  a 
somewhat  sleepless  night.  Still  I  worked  all  the  morning  in 
the  archives  of  state,  and  had  to  play  my  part  at  a  large  din- 
ner party  at  home.  *  *  *  I  cannot  keep  my  spirits  up  to 
these  continual  claims  upon  them.  *  *  *  Playing  the  lion 
has  killed  me.  I  should  like  to  repose  for  a  few  days  in  my 
den  at  Sunnyside. 

Washington,  February  4th,  he  writes  to  his  nieces 
at  Sunnyside : 

My  dear  Girls  : 

I  am  in  debt  for  several  letters  from  home,  so  this  must  do 
for  you  all.  I  have,  in  fact,  been  so  much  taken  up  by  hard 
work  at  the  State  Department,  when  I  can  manage  to  get 
there,  and  by  the  incessant  demands  of  society  in  all  kinds  of 
shapes,  that  I  have  neither  leisure  nor  mood  to  write.  I  have 
at  times  been  nearly  done  up,  and  would  have  broken  away 


£r:M.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  125 

and  hurried  home,  but  for  the  mine  I  have  to  dig  at  in  the 
archives. 

I  foresee  I  shall  be  detained  here  some  time  longer,  having 
such  a  world  of  documents  to  examine,  and  being  so  often  in- 
terrupted in  my  labors.  You  must  not  think  I  am  staying  here 
for  pleasure's  sake  ;  for  pleasure,  just  now,  I  would  gladly  dis- 
pense with,  if  I  could.  I  do  manage  to  keep  clear  of  most  of 
the  evening  parties ;  but  the  long  dinners  are  inevitable,  and 
the  necessity  of  returning  visits  cuts  up  my  time  deplorably. 

Had  I  nothing  to  do  but  amuse  myself,  I  should  find 
"Washington  really  delightful,  for  I  meet  pleasant  and  interest- 
ing people  at  every  turn ;  but  I  have  no  time  to  follow  up  new 
acquaintances,  and  am  only  tantalized  by  proffered  friendships 
which  I  cannot  cultivate. 

Mrs.  Kennedy  had  one  of  her  soirees  a  few  evenings  since,, 
when  all  Washington  poured  in  upon  us.  *  *  *  On  this 
occasion,  an  officer  of  the  navy  delivered  to  me  a  small  paper 
box  containing  a  miniature  anchor.  It  was  made  from  the  bolt 
to  which  Columbus  was  chained  in  the  prison  at  St.  Do- 
mingo. A  purser  of  the  navy  *  had  gouged  the  bolt  out  of 
the  wall,  and  sent  part  of  it  to  the  National  Institute  of  this 
city  ;  the  other  part  he  designed  for  me.  The  poor  fellow  was 
taken  ill,  and  died  of  the  yellow  fever  ;  but  his  sister  had  exe- 
cuted his  wishes,  in  having  a  little  anchor  wrought  out  of  the 
relic,  and  had  forwarded  it,  with  a  letter,  to  me.  Both  the 
letter  and  the  anchor  have  been  between  six  and  seven  years 
in  reaching  me,  having  lain  in  the  hands  of  a  naval  officer  at 
Washington.  I  shall  treasure  them  up  in  the  archives  of 
Sunnyside.     *     *     * 

*  Robert  S.  Moore,  of  Ncwbern,  N.  C. 
Vol.  IV.— 6*  fff)  - ..     .J 


130  klFE  AND  LETTERS  [1853. 

In  a  letter  to  myself,  dated  February  6th,  1853,  he 

says : 

I  am  making  a  longer  sojourn  in  Washington  than  I  had 
intended,  but  it  takes  time  to  make  the  necessary  researches  in 
the  archives  of  state.  *  *  *  I  cannot  say  that  I  find 
much  that  is  new  among  the  manuscripts  of  Washington, 
Sparks  having  published  the  most  interesting ;  but  it  is  impor- 
tant to  get  facts  from  the  fountain  head,  not  at  second  hand 
through  his  publications. 

The  following  is  in  answer  to  a  letter  which  con- 
tained an  allusion  to  a  party  in  New  York,  where  the 
amusement  of  the  evening  was  moving  tables:— a 
novel  and  mysterious  experimenting,  of  which  the 
whole  city  was  just  then  full : 

\_To  Mrs.  Pierre  M.  Irving.] 

Washington,  Feb.  10, 1S53. 

My  dear  Helen  : 

%  '    %  ^  •&  *  * 

I  had  hoped  Lent,  which  put  a  stop  to  the  balls,  would 
likewise  put  a  stop  to  the  dinner  parties ;  but  the  latter  con- 
tinue, and  I  stand  committed  for  several.  The  last  one  for 
which  I  am  engaged  is  at  the  President's,  on  Saturday  week. 
It  is  to  be  a  small  social  party,  his  huge  dinners  being  rather 
unwieldy,  and  somewhat  promiscuous.  I  shall  accept  no  invi- 
tations after  that,  hoping  then  to  turn  my  face  homeward, 
tarrying  a  day  or  two  at  Baltimore  on  the  way. 

****** 

Thackeray  has  delivered  one  of  his  lectures  here,  and  de- 
livers another  to-morrow  evening.     I  attended  the  first,  and 


JEt.  69.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  131 

shall  attend  the  next.  He  is  well  received  here,  both  in  public 
and  private,  and  is  going  the  round  of  dinner  parties,  &c.  I 
find  him  a  very  pleasant  companion. 

I  see  you  are  in  the  midst  of  hocus  pocus  with  moving 
tables,  &c.  I  was  at  a  party,  last  evening,  where  the  grand 
experiment  was  made  on  a  huge  table,  round  which  were 
seated  upward  of  a  dozen  young  folks  of  both  sexes.  The 
table  was  for  a  long  tune  obdurate.  At  length  a  very  pretty, 
bright-eyed  girl,  who  in  England  would  have  passed  for  a  Lan- 
cashire witcli,  gave  the  word,  "  Tip,  table  !  "  whereupon  the 
table  gradually  raised  on  two  legs,  until  the  surface  was  at  an 
angle  of  forty-five  degrees,  and  was  not  easily  to  be  put  down 
again,  until  she  gave  the  word,  "  Down,  table  !  "  It  afterward 
rose  and  sank  to  a  tune,  performed  gyrations  about  the  room, 
&c. ;  all  which  appeared  very  mysterious  and  diabolic.  Unfor- 
tunately, two  or  three  of  us  tried  an  after  experiment,  and 
found  that  we  could  tip  table,  and  make  it  move  about  the 
room  without  any  very  apparent  exertion  of  our  hands ;  so  we 
remain  among  the  unconverted — quite  behind  the  age. 

From  the  close  of  the  following  letter,  it  would 
seem  there  had  been  some  table  waltzing  at  Sunny- 
side  : 

[To  Miss  Sarah  Irving. .] 

Washington,  Feb.  25, 1S53. 

My  dear  Sarah  : 

I  have  just  received  your  letter,  dated  24th,  by  which  I 
am  happy  to  find  all  is  going  on  well  at  home. 

I  went  down,  yesterday,  in  the  steamer  Vixen,  with  a  large 
party,  to  visit  the  caloric  ship  Ericsson.    In  our  party  were  the 


132  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1853. 

two  Presidents  (Fillmore  and  Pierce),  all  the  Cabinet,  and 
many  other  official  characters.  The  Ericsson  appeared  to  jus- 
tify all  that  has  been  said  in  her  praise,  and  promises  to  pro- 
duce a  great  change  in  navigation. 

After  inspecting  the  machinery,  and  visiting  all  parts  of  the 
ship,  which  is  a  noble  vessel,  and  beautifully  fitted  up,  we  par- 
took of  a  plentiful  collation,  and  returned,  well  pleased,  to  the 
capital. 

This  morning  I  went  down  to  Mount  Yernon,  in  company 

with  Miss  Mary  K .     We  were  joined  at  the  steamboat  by 

Mr.  B and  Sarah,  and  found  Mr.  Augustine  "Washington 

on  board.  Our  visit  to  Mount  Vernon  was  but  for  two  or 
three  hours,  returning  in  the  afternoon.  I  went  merely  for  the 
purpose  of  taking  one  more  view  of  the  place  and  its  vicinity, 
though  pressed  by  Mr.  Washington  to  make  a  longer  visit. 

This  evening  I  have  been  at  the  last  reception  of  President 
Fillmore.  It  was  an  immense  crowd,  for  the  public  seemed 
eager  to  give  him  a  demonstration,  at  parting,  of  their  hearty 
goodwill. 

I  see  you  are  all  conjuring,  and  setting  the  tables  waltzing. 
It  is  really  high  time  for  me  to  come  home.  I  beg  you  won't 
set  the  table  in  my  study  capering.  If  that  gets  bewitched,  I 
am  undone. 

Three  days  after,  lie  writes  to  Mrs.  Pierre  M. 
Irving  as  follows : 

I  have  been  thinking  of  setting  off  homeward  for  the  last 
week,  yet  here  am  I  still  lingering,  and  I  begin  to  question 
whether  I  shall  not  make  good  your  surmise,  that  I  would  stay 
until  after  the  inauguration.     I  really  am  yearning  for  home  j 


Mr.  60.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  133 

but  my  friends  the  Kennedys  will  not  hear  of  my  going  off 
until  they  break  up  their  camp,  which  will  probably  be  at  the 
end  of  the  week. 

I  have  become  acquainted  with  the  President  elect.  He  is 
a  quiet,  gentlemanlike  man  in  appearance  and  manner,  and  I 
have  conceived  a  goodwill  for  him,  from  finding,  in  the  course 
of  our  conversation,  that  he  has  it  at  heart  to  take  care  of 
Hawthorne,  who  was  his  early  fellow  student. 

Hawthorne  afterward  received  the  appointment  of 
Consul  at  Liverpool — a  lucrative  post.  Mr.  Irving 
had  never  met  the  gifted  author,  but  was  a  great  ad- 
mirer of  his  powers,  and  considered  his  novels  and 
essays  among  the  best  productions  of  our  literature. 
His  letter  continues : 

I  have  a  letter  from  Sarah  S ,  giving  an  account  of  the 

grand  spectacle  of  the  Emperor  and  Empress  going  to  Notre 
Dame,  with  all  their  wedding  retinue.  It  must  have  been  a 
magnificent  pageant. 

I  believe  I  have  told  you  that  I  knew  the  grandfather  of 
the  Empress — old  Mr.  Kirkpatrick,  who  had  been  American 
Consul  at  Malaga.  I  passed  an  evening  at  his  house,  in  1827, 
near  Adra,  on  the  coast  of  the  Mediterranean.  A  week  or 
two  after,  I  was  at  the  house  of  his  son-in-law,  the  Count 
Teba,  at  Granada — a  gallant,  intelligent  gentleman,  much  cut 
up  in  the  wars,  having  lost  an  eye,  and  been  maimed  in  a  leg 
and  hand.  His  wife,  the  daughter  of  Mr.  Kirkpatrick,  was 
absent,  but  he  had  a  family  of  little  girls,  mere  children,  about 
him.  The  youngest  of  these  must  have  been  the  present 
Empress.     Several  years  afterward,  when  I  had  recently  taken 


134  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1S53. 

up  my  abode  in  Madrid,  I  was  invited  to  a  grand  ball  at  the 
house  of  the  Countess  Montijo,  one  of  the  leaders  of  the  ton. 
On  making  my  bow  to  her,  I  was  surprised  at  being  received 
by  her  with  the  warmth  and  eagerness  of  an  old  friend.  She 
claimed  me  as  the  friend  of  her  late  husband,  the  Count  Teba 
(subsequently  Marquis  Montijo),  who,  she  said,  had  often  spo- 
ken of  me  with  the  greatest  regard.  She  took  me  into  an- 
other room,  and  showed  me  a  miniature  of  the  Count,  such  as 
I  had  known  him,  with  a  black  patch  over  one  eye.  She  sub- 
sequently introduced  me  to  the  little  girls  I  had  known  at 
Granada — now  fashionable  belles  at  Madrid. 

After  this,  I  was  frequently  at  her  house,  which  was  one 
of  the  gayest  in  the  capital.  The  Countess  and  her  daughters 
all  spoke  English.  The  eldest  daughter  was  married,  while  I 
was  in  Madrid,  to  the  Duke  of  Alva  and  Berwick,  the  lineal 
successor  to  the  pretender  to  the  British  crown.  The  other 
now  sits  on  the  throne  of  France. 

Mr.  Irving  remained  in  Washington  until  after  the 
inauguration  of  President  Pierce,  when  he  returned  to 
Sunny  side. 

The  following  letter  to  Mrs.  Kennedy,  at  whose 
house  he  had  been  domesticated  for  nearly  two  months, 
was  addressed  to  her  a  few  days  after  his  return.  The 
"  gentle  Horseshoe  "  was  a  name  Mr.  Irving  was  fond 
of  giving  the  late  Secretary  of  the  Navy,  from  the  title 
of  one  of  his  novels,  Horseshoe  Kobinson. 


jEt.  69.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  135 

[To  Mrs.  John  P.  Kcn?icdi/.~\ 

Sunnyside,  March  11, 1S53. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Kennedy  : 

I  was  really  sad  at  heart  at  parting  with  you  and  Mary 
Kennedy  at  Washington.  Indeed,  had  not  your  establishment 
fallen  to  pieces  around  me,  I  hardly  know  when  I  should  have 
gotten  away.  I  could  almost  have  clung  to  the  wreck  so  long 
as  there  was  a  three-legged  stool  and  a  horn  spoon  to  make 
shift  with.  You  see  what  danger  there  is  in  domesticating  me. 
I  am  sadly  prone  to  take  root  where  I  find  myself  happy.     It 

was  some  consolation  to  me,  in  parting,  that  I  had  Mrs.  H 

and  the  gentle  Horseshoe  for  fellow  travellers.  "Without  their 
company,  I  should  have  been  completely  downhearted.  The 
former  was  bright,  intelligent,  and  amiable  as  usual ;  and  as  to 
"John,"  you  know  he  is  a  sympathizing  soul.  He  saw  I 
needed  soothing,  so  lie  cracked  some  of  his  best  jokes,  and  I 
was  comforted. 

I  was  rejoiced  to  find  your  father  down  stairs,  and  seem- 
ingly almost,  if  not  quite  as  well  as  when  I  left  him.  My 
reception  by  him  and  your  sister  made  me  feel  that  I  was  in 
another  home — or  rather  in  another  part  of  the  family  circle 
in  which  for  some  time  past  I  had  been  flourishing  so  hap- 
pily.     *     *     * 

I  arrived  in  New  York  too  late  for  the  Hudson  River 
Railroad  cars,  so  I  had  to  remain  in  the  city  until  morning. 
Yesterday  I  alighted  at  the  station,  within  ten  minutes'  walk 
of  home.  The  walk  was  along  the  railroad,  in  full  sight  of  the 
house.  I  saw  female  forms  in  the  porch,  and  I  knew  the  spy- 
glass was  in  hand.  In  a  moment  there  was  a  waving  of  hand- 
kerchiefs, and  a  hurrying  hither  and  thither.  Never  did  old 
bachelor  come  to  such  a  loving  home,  so  gladdened  by  blessed 


136  LIFE  AND  LETTERS      •  [1853. 

womankind.  In  fact,  I  doubt  whether  many  married  men 
receive  such  a  heartfelt  welcome.  My  friend  Horseshoe,  and 
one  or  two  others  of  my  acquaintance,  may ;  but  there  are  not 
many  as  well  off  in  domestic  life  as  I.  However,  let  me  be 
humbly  thankful,  and  repress  all  vainglory. 

After  all  the  kissing  and  crying  and  laughing  and  rejoicing 
were  over,  I  sallied  forth  to  inspect  my  domains,  welcomed 
home  by  my  prime  minister  Robert,  and  my  master  of  the 
horse  Thomas,  and  my  keeper  of  the  poultry  yard,  "William. 
Everything  was  in  good  order ;  all  had  been  faithful  in  the  dis- 
charge of  their  duties.  My  fields  had  been  manured,  my  trees 
trimmed,  the  fences  repaired  and  painted.  I  really  believe 
more  had  been  done  in  my  absence  than  would  have  been  done 
had  I  been  home.  My  horses  were  in  good  condition.  Dandy 
and  Billy,  the  coach  horses,  were  as  sleek  as  seals.  Gentleman 
Dick,  my  saddle  horse,  showed  manifest  pleasure  at  seeing  me  ; 
put  his  cheek  against  mine,  laid  his  head  on  my  shoulder,  and 
would  have  nibbled  at  my  ear  had  I  permitted  it.  One  of  my 
Chinese  geese  was  sitting  on  eggs ;  the  rest  were  sailing  like 
frigates  in  the  pond,  with  a  whole  fleet  of  white  topknot  ducks. 
The  hens  were  vying  with  each  other  which  could  bring  out 
the  earliest  brood  of  chickens.  Taffy  and  Tony,  two  pet  dogs 
of  a  dandy  race,  kept  more  for  show  than  use,  received  me 
with  well-bred  though  rather  cool  civility ;  while  my  little  ter- 
rier slut  Ginger  bounded  about  me  almost  crazy  with  delight, 
having  five  little  Gingers  toddling  at  her  heels,  with  which  she 
had  enriched  me  during  my  absence. 

I  forbear  to  say  anything  about  my  cows,  my  Durham 
heifer,  or  my  pigeons,  having  gone  as  far  with  these  rural  mat- 
ters as  may  be  agreeable.  Suffice  it  to  say,  everything  was 
just  as  heart  could  wish  ;  so,  having  visited  every  part  of  my 


JEt.  69.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  137 

empire,  I  settled  down  for  the  evening  in  my  elbow  chair,  and 
entertained  the  family  circle  with  all  the  wonders  I  had  seen  at 
Washington. 

To-day  I  have  dropped  back  into  all  my  old  habits. 
*  *  *  I  have  resumed  my  seat  at  the  table  in  the  study, 
where  I  am  scribbling  this  letter,  while  an  unseasonable  snow- 
storm is  prevailing  out  of  doors. 

This  letter  will  no  doubt  find  you  once  more  at  your  happy 
home  in  Baltimore,  all  fussing  and  bustling  at  an  end,  with 
time  to  nurse  yourself,  and  get  rid  of  that  cold  which  has  been 
hanging  about  you  for  so  many  days. 

And  now  let  me  express  how  much  I  -feel  obliged  to  you 
and  Kennedy  for  drawing  me  forth  out  of  my  little  country 
nest,  and  setting  me  once  more  in  circulation.  This  has  grown 
out  of  our  fortunate  meeting  and  sojourn  together  at  Saratoga 
last  summer,  and  I  count  these  occurrences  as  among  the  most 
pleasant  events  of  my  life.  They  have  brought  me  into  do- 
mestic communion  with  yourselves,  your  family  connections 
and  dearest  intimacies,  and  have  opened  to  me  a  little  world  of 
friendship  and  kindness,  in  which  I  have  enjoyed  myself  with 
a  full  heart. 

God  bless  you  all,  and  make  you  as  happy  as  you  delight 
to  make  others.  Ever  yours,  most  truly, 

"Washington  Irving. 


138  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1853. 


CHAPTER    Till. 

LETTER  TO  MRS.  STORROTV —  LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  EUGENIE  MONTIJO  —  HI3 
SEVENTIETH  BIRTHDAY— LETTER  TO  HON.  ROBERT  C.  WINTHROP — WILKIE'S 
SKETCH— LETTER  TO  MR.  GRAY— TO  MRS.  KENNEDY— SECOND  LETTER  TO  MR. 
WINTHROP— LETTER  TO  MISS  MARY  E.  KENNEDY — LEAVES  SUNNYSIDE  ON  AN 
EXCURSION — LETTERS   DURING   HIS  ABSENCE— LETTER  ON   HIS   RETURN. 

rpPlE  following  letter  is  addressed  to  Mrs.  Storrow, 
-*-     at  Paris : 

Sunnyside,  March  28, 1853. 

My  dear  Saeah  : 

A  letter  received  from  you  while  I  was  at  Washington, 
gave  an  account  of  the  marriage  procession  of  Louis  Napoleon 
and  his  bride  to  the  Church  of  Notre  Dame,  which  you  saw 
from  a  window  near  the  Hotel  de  Ville.  One  of  your  recent 
letters,  I  am  told,  speaks  of  your  having  been  presented  to  the 
Empress.  I  shall  see  it  when  I  go  to  town.  Louis  Napoleon 
and  Eugenie  Montijo,  Emperor  and  Empress  of  France  ! — one 
of  whom  I  have  had  a  guest  at  my  cottage  on  the  Hudson  ; 
the  other,  whom,  when  a  child,  I  have  had  on  my  knee  at 
Granada !  It  seems  to  cap  the  climax  of  the  strange  dramas 
of  which  Paris  has  been  the  theatre  during  my  lifetime. 

I  have  repeatedly  thought  that  each  grand  coup  de  theatre 
would  be  the  last  that  would  occur  in  my  time ;  but  each  has 


Mt.  CO.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  13<j 

been  succeeded  by  another  equally  striking,  and  what  will  be 
the  next,  who  can  conjecture  ? 

The  last  I  saw  of  Eugenie  Montijo,  she  was  one  of  the 
reigning  belles  of  Madrid ; .  and  she  and  her  giddy  circle  had 
swept  away  my  charming  young  friend,  the  beautiful  and  ac- 
complished    ,  into  their  career  of  fashionable  dissi- 
pation. Now  Eugenie  is  upon  a  throne,  and  a  volun- 
tary recluse  in  a  convent  of  one  of  the  most  rigorous  orders ! 

Poor  !      Perhaps,   however,  her  fate  may  ultimately  be 

the  happiest  of  the  two.  "  The  storm,"  with  her,  "  is  o'er,  and 
she's  at  rest ; "  but  the  other  is  launched  upon  a  returnless 
shore  on  a  dangerous  sea  infamous  for  its  tremendous  ship- 
wrecks. 

Am  I  to  live  to  see  the  catastrophe  of  her  career,  and  the 
end  of  this  suddenly  conjured-up  empire,  which  seems  to  be  of 
"  such  stuff  as  dreams  are  made  of?  " 

I  confess  my  personal  acquaintance  with  the  individuals 
who  figure  in  this  historical  romance  gives  me  uncommon  inter- 
est in  it ;  but  I  consider  it  stamped  with  danger  and  instability, 
and  as  liable  to  extravagant  vicissitudes  as  one  of  Dumas's 
novels.  You  do  right  to  witness  the  grand  features  of  this 
passing  pageant.  You  are  probably  reading  one  of  the  most 
peculiar  and  eventful  pages  of  history,  and  may  live  to  look 
back  upon  it  as  a  romantic  tale. 

I  have  passed  part  of  the  winter  at  Washington,  delight- 
fully situated  in  the  house  of  my  friend  Kennedy,  who  was 
Secretary  of  the  Navy. 

****** 

I  was  present  at  the  going  out  of  one  Administration  and 
the  coming  in  of  another ;  was  acquainted  with  both  Presi- 
dents and  most  of  the  members  of  both  Cabinets,   and  wit- 


140  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1853. 

nessed  the  inauguration  of  General  Pierce.  It  was  admirable 
to  see  the  quiet  and  courtesy  with  which  this  great  transition 
of  power  and  rule  from  one  party  to  another  took  place.  I 
was  at  festive  meetings  where  the  members  of  the  opposite 
parties  mingled  socially  together,  and  have  seen  the  two  Presi- 
dents arm  in  arm,  as  if  the  sway  of  an  immense  empire  was 
not  passing  from  one  to  the  other.     *     *     * 

At  the  last  of  this  week  I  expect  some  of  the  family  up 
here  to  my  birthday,  the  3d  of  April,  when  I  come  of  age — 
of  full  age — seventy  years  !  I  never  could  have  hoped,  at 
such  an  advanced  period  of  life,  to  be  in  such  full  health,  such 
activity  of  mind  and  body,  and  such  capacity  for  enjoyment  as 
I  find  myself  at  present.  But  I  have  reached  the  allotted  limit 
of  existence  ;  all  beyond  is  especial  indulgence.  So  long  as  I 
can  retain  my  present  health  and  spirits,  I  am  happy  to  live, 
for  I  think  my  life  is  important  to  the  happiness  of  others  ;  but 
as  soon  as  my  life  becomes  useless  to  others,  and  joyless  to 
myself,  I  hope  I  may  be  relieved  from  the  burden ;  and  I  shall 
lay  it  down  with  heartfelt  thanks  to  that  Almighty  Power 
which  has  guided  my  incautious  steps  through  so  many  uncer- 
tain and  dangerous  ways,  and  enabled  nie  to  close  my  career  in 
serenity  and  peace,  surrounded  by  my  family  and  friends,  in 
the  little  home  I  have  formed  for  myself,  among  the  scenes  of 
my  boyhood. 

With  affectionate  remembrances  to  Mr.  Storrow,  and  love 
to  the  dear  little  folks, 

Your  affectionate  uncle, 

"Washington  Irving. 

The  following  letter  also  touches  upon  his  three- 
score and  ten.     It  is  addressed  to  the  Hon.  Kobert  C. 


JEt.  70.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  141 

"Winthrop,  of  Boston,  -who  had  just  sent  him  a  volume 
of  his  writings,  and  with  whom  he  had  recently  be- 
come acquainted  under  Mr.  Kennedy's  roof,  at  "Wash- 
ington, where  they  sojourned  together  for  a  week.  It  has 
allusion  also  to  a  sketch  of  him  by  "Wilkie.  Of  this  last, 
Mr.  Winthrop  writes  :  "  Do  you  remember  my  telling 
you  that  I  had  a  sketch  of  you,  by  "Wilkie,  in  one  of  his 
published  volumes  ?  I  have  found  it,  since  my  return, 
in  a  volume  which  I  purchased  in  London,  and  which 
was  just  out  when  I  was  there,  in  1847.  The  sketch  is 
entitled,  "  "Washington  Irving  consulting  the  Archives 
of  Cordova,"  and  is  dated  25th  April,  1828.  It  forms 
the  frontispiece  to  a  large  volume  dedicated  to  Lord 
Lansdowne.  The  original  of  the  sketch  of  you  is  said 
to  be  in  the  possession  of  Sir  "William  Knighton, 
Bart." 

Sukntbide,  April  4,  1853. 

My  dear  Mr.  "WiNTimor  : 

I  have  deferred  replying  to  your  very  kind  and  acceptable 
letter  until  I  could  acknowledge  the  receipt  of  the  volume  it 
announced.  It  has  now  come  to  hand,  and  I  shall  prize  it,  not 
only  for  its  own  merit,  but  as  a  memorial  of  the  very  pleasant 
time  we  passed  together  under  the  hospitable  roof  of  Kennedy, 
at  "Washington ;  and  I  assure  you  I  esteem  it  one  of  the  most 
gratifying  circumstances  attending  my  delightful  sojourn  there, 
that  it  brought  me  into  domestic  companionship  with  you. 

I  regret  to  learn  that  you,  like  Kennedy,  have  been  a  suf- 
ferer in  health  since  we  parted,  though  I  trust  you  are  both 
fully  recovered.  You  have  no  doubt  been  shocked,  like  my- 
self,  at  the  sad  bereavement  which  has  afflicted  the  worthy 


142  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1853. 

Fillmore  family.  I  almost  think  poor  Mrs.  Fillmore  must  have 
received  her  death  'warrant  while  standing  by  my  side  on  the 
marble  terrace  of  the  Capitol,  exposed  to  chilly  wind  and  snow, 
listening  to  the  inaugural  speech  of  her  husband's  successor. 
This  sad  event,  as  you  perceive,  has  put  an  end  to  the  South- 
ern tour,  which  did  not  seem  to  meet  your  approbation,  and 
has  left  Kennedy  to  the  quiet  of  his  home  and  his  library, 
which  I  should  think  he  would  relish  after  the  turmoil  of 
Washington. 

As  to  myself,  to  echo  your  own  words,  I  am  "  safely  at 
Sunnyside,  and  in  the  best  of  health."  The  shadows  of  de- 
parted years,  however,  are  gathering  over  me,  for  yesterday  I 
celebrated  my  seventieth  birthday.  Seventy  years  of  age  !  I 
can  scarcely  realize  that  I  have  indeed  arrived  at  the  allotted 
verge  of  existence,  beyond  which  all  is  special  grace  and  indul- 
gence. I  used  to  think  that  a  man,  at  seventy,  must  have  sur- 
vived everything  worth  living  for ;  that  with  him  the  silver 
cord  must  be  loosed,  the  wheel  broken  at  the  cistern ;  that  all 
desire  must  fail,  and  the  grasshopper  become  a  burden.  Yet 
here  I  find  myself,  unconscious  of  the  withering  influences  of 
age,  still  strong  and  active,  my  sensibilities  alive,  and  my  social 
affections  in  full  vigor. 

"  Strange,  that  a  harp  of  thousand  strings 
Should  keep  in  tune  so  long  !  " 

"While  it  does  keep  in  tune  ;  wrhile  I  have  still  a  little  music  in 
my  soul  to  be  called  out  by  any  touch  of  sympathy ;  while  I 
can  enjoy  the  society  of  those  dear  to  me,  and  contribute,  as 
they  tell  me,  to  their  enjoyment,  I  am  content  and  happy  to 
live  on.  But  I  have  it  ever  present  to  my  mind  that  the 
measure  of  my  days  is  full  and  running  over ;  and  I  feel  ready 


JEt.  70.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  143 

at  any  moment  to  lay  down  this  remnant  of  existence,  with  a 
thankful  heart  that  my  erratic  and  precarious  career  has  been 
brought  to  so  serene  a  close,  among  the  scenes  of  my  youth, 
and  surrounded  by  those  I  love. 

The  sketch  of  me  by  TVilkie,  which  you  tell  me  you  have 
in  one  of  his  published  volumes,  cannot  be  an  attempt  at  a 
likeness.  I  recollect  the  composition ;  the  scene,  I  think,  was 
at  Seville.  I  was  seated  in  a  dusky  chamber  at  a  table,  look- 
ing over  a  folio  volume  which  a  monk  who  was  standing  by 
my  side  had  just  handed  down  to  me.  TVilkie  thought  the 
whole  had  a  Rembrandt  effect,  which  he  aimed  at  produ- 
cing ;  but,  if  I  recollect  right,  my  face  could  not  be  seen  dis- 
tinctly. 

Farewell,  my  dear  Mr.  Winthrop,  and  believe  me,  with 
no  common  regard,  Your  friend, 

"Washington  Irving. 

[To  Mr.  Uchvard  Gray.'] 

Sunnyside,  April  24,  18c3. 

My  dear  Mr.  Gray  : 

The  hams  which  you  have  had  the  kindness  to  send  me, 
came  safe  to  hand.  One  of  them  was  served  up  to-day,  at 
dinner.  All  my  family  partook  of  it  with  uncommon  relish. 
Never  did  a  ham  achieve  such  sudden  popularity.  In  a  word, 
it  covered  itself  with  glory  !  I  must  get  your  receipt  for  cur- 
ing hams  ;  but  there  must  be  much  in  the  breed  of  the  animal, 
as  well  as  in  the  treatment  and  feeding.  I  never  attempt  any- 
thing but  a  few  green  hams,  in  which  I  succeed  very  well ;  but 
hams  so  rich,  high  flavored,  and  thoroughly  cured  as  those  you 
have  sent  me,  are  quite  beyond  my  art.  I  thank  you  most 
heartily  for  this  specimen  of  what  Maryland  can  furnish  in  this 


144:  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1853. 

line.  If  I  had  the  ordering  of  things,  I  should  have  all  our 
pigs  sent  to  Maryland  to  be  cured,  as  they  send  patients  to 
southern  climates. 

I  am  happy  to  learn  from  Mrs.  Kennedy  that  your  health 
is  restored  to  its  usual  state,  and  anticipate  the  pleasure  of 
again  meeting  you  in  the  ensuing  summer.  Since  we  parted, 
I  have  celebrated  my  seventieth  birthday,  and  passed  that 
boundary  beyond  which  a  man  lives  by  special  privilege. 
Your  example  shows  me,  however,  that  a  man  may  live  on 
beyond  that  term,  and  retain  his  sensibilities  alive  to  every- 
thing noble  and  good  and  pleasurable  and  beautiful,  and  enjoy 
the  society  of  his  friends,  and  spread  happiness  around  him. 
On  such  conditions,  old  age  is  lovable.  I  shall  endeavor  to 
follow  your  example. 

Ever  affectionately,  your  friend, 

"Washington  Irving. 

[To  Mrs.  Kennedy.'] 

Stjnntside,  April  24, 1853. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Kennedy  : 

I  am  truly  concerned  to  hear  that  Kennedy  still  continues 
unwell.  He  has  overtasked  himself,  and  has  led  a  life  of  too 
much  excitement  for  some  months  past,  and  is  now  in  a  state 
of  collapse.  He  must  give  his  mind  perfect  repose  for  a  time 
— do  as  they  do  with  the  horses,  when  they  take  off  their  shoes 
and  turn  them  out  to  grass.  His  study  is  no  place  for  him  just 
now.  I  think  the  idea  a  good  one  to  make  an  excursion — try 
change  of  scene  and  a  course  of  agreeable  society.      I  think 

Mrs.  S a  capital  prescription  for  his  present  case ;  and  the 

sooner  you  pay  her  your  proposed  visit,  the  better. 

I  should  indeed  like  to  be  of  your  party,   for  I  am  be- 


wEt.  70.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  145 

witched  with  the  South,  and  Virginia  has  always  been  a  poet- 
ical region  with  me.  But  I  begin  to  doubt  whether  those 
high-seasoned  regales  of  society  that  I  have  had  of  late,  at 
Saratoga  and  Washington,  do  not  unsettle  me  a  little,  and 
make  it  hard  for  me  to  content  myself  with  the  sober,  every- 
day fare  of  Sunnyside.  I  have  now  to  work  hard  to  make  up 
for  past  dissipation,  and  to  earn  any  future  holiday.     *     *     * 

I  have  just  been  writing  to  your  father,  to  thank  him  for 
the  hams,  which  have  arrived  in  prime  order,  and  to  give  him 
an  account  of  the  brilliant  manner  in  which  one  of  them  ac- 
quitted itself  at  dinner  to-day.  I  strike  my  flag  to  him  com- 
pletely, and  confess  that,  for  hams,  we  cannot  pretend  to  cope 
with  old  Maryland  (always  saving  and  excepting  certain  green 
hams  peculiar  to  Sunnyside).  It  gives  me  sincere  pleasure  to 
learn  that  your  father  continues  in  his  usual  health.  I  trust 
that  be  has  his  musical  evenings,  and  his  pet  minstrels  to  play 
and  sing  for  him.  There  will  never  be  any  wrinkles  in  his 
mind  as  long  as  he  can  enjoy  sweet  music,  and  have  youth  and 
beauty  to  administer  it  to  him. 

I  am  writing  late  at  night,  and  it  is  high  time  to  go  to  bed. 
So  give  my  kindest  remembrances  to  your  sister  and  your  hus- 
band, and  believe  me  ever,  your  affectionate  friend, 

"Washington  Irving. 

The  following  letter,  among  other  matters,  contains 
a  cordial  and  complimentary  allusion  to  Sparks,  the 
more  interesting  that  it  is  entirely  spontaneous,  and 
that  it  expresses  a  mature  and  unbiassed  judgment  of 
the  manner  in  which  the  task  of  editing  "  Washing- 
ton's Writings  w  bad  been  executed  by  him  : 

Vol.  IV.— 7  (10.) 


146  UFE  AND  LETTERS  [1853. 

[To  Hon.  Rolert  C.  Winthrop.] 

Sunntside,  May  23, 1S53. 

My  dear  Mr.  "W  inthrop  : 

I  thank  you  and  Mr.  Prescott  for  your  kind  remembrances 
of  me.  It  is  very  gratifying  to  be  so  remembered  by  such 
men.  I  have  heretofore  consulted  Frothingham's  History  of 
the  Siege  of  Boston,  about  which  you  speak.  It  merits  the 
character  you  give  it,  as  being  "  the  best  thing  written  about 
the  Bunker  Hill  period."  I  am  also  much  obliged  to  you  for 
the  clippings  which  you  send  me  from  newspapers,  giving 
familiar  anecdotes  of  Washington.  It  is  surprising  how  few 
anecdotes  there  are  of  him  in  his  familiar  life ;  but  he  was 
essentially  a  public  character,  and  so  regulated  in  conduct  by 
square  and  rule,  as  to  furnish  very  little  of  the  amusing  and 
picturesque  anecdote  that  we  find  in  the  lives  of  more  irregular 
men. 

I  doubt  whether  the  world  will  ever  get  a  more  full  and 
correct  idea  of  Washington  than  is  furnished  by  Sparks's  col- 
lection of  his  letters,  with  the  accompanying  notes  and  illus- 
trations, and  the  preliminary  biography.  I  cannot  join  in  the 
severe  censures  that  have  been  passed  upon  Sparks  for  the  ver- 
bal corrections  and  alterations  he  has  permitted  himself  to 
make  in  some  of  Washington's  letters.  They  have  been 
spoken  of  too  harshly.  From  the  examination  I  have  given 
to  the  correspondence  of  Washington,  in  the  archives  of  the 
State  Department,  it  appears  to  me  that  Sparks  has  executed 
his  task  of  selection,  arrangement,  and  copious  illustration, 
with  great  judgment  and  discrimination,  and  with  consummate 
fidelity  to  the  essential  purposes  of  history.  His  intelligent 
and  indefatigable  labors  in  this  and  other  fields  of  American 


jEt.  70.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  147 

history  arc  of  national  and  incalculable  importance.     Posterity 
will  do  justice  to  them  and  him. 

I  am  glad  to  learn  that  you  are  supervising  a  lithographic 
portrait  of  our  friend  Kennedy,  ironing  out  "  the  wrinkles  and 
crow's  feet,"  and  fitting  it  to  figure  to  advantage  in  the  shop 
windows.  It  will  rejoice  the  heart  of  his  good  little  wife,  who 
thinks  he  has  never  had  justice  done  him  in  that  line,  and 
was  half  piqued  at  a  lithographic  effigy  of  myself,  where  the 
painter  and  engraver  had  represented  me  as  flourishing  in 
"  immortal  youth."  * 

Such  likenesses,  "  corrected  and  amended,"  will  do  well  to 
go  with  the  Homes  of  American  Authors,  recently  published, 
to  give  Europeans  a  favorable  idea  of  literary  men  and  literary 
life  in  this  country.  In  commenting  on  that  publication,  a 
London  critic  observes,  that  "  the  American  authors  seem  to 
court  the  muse  to  some  purpose."  He  did  not  know  that  most 
of  them,  so  well  housed,  had  courted  a  rich  wife  into  the  bar- 
gain. 

Ever,  my  dear  Mr.  "Winthrop,  yours,  with  great  regard, 

"WasIiington  Irving. 

On  the  27th  of  May,  Mr.  Irving  writes  to  Miss 
Mary  E.  Kennedy,  a  niece  of  Mr.  John  P.  Kennedy, 
and  one  of  his  household  at  "Washington  : 

Too  much  occupation  has  produced  symptoms,  of  late, 
which  oblige  me  to  suspend  literary  occupation,  and  may  exile 
me  for  a  time  from  my  study. 

In  sober  sadness,  I  believe  it  is  high  time  I  should  throw 

*  Probably  the  likeness  prefixed  to  Mr.  H.  T.  Tuckerman's  article  on 
Sunnyside  and  its  Proprietor,  in  the  Homes  of  American  Authors. — Ed. 


148  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1S53. 

by  the  pen  altogether  ;  but  writing  has  become  a  kind  of  hab- 
itude with  me,  and,  unless  I  have  some  task  on  hand  to  occupy 
a  great  part  of  my  time,  I  am  at  a  loss  what  to  do.  After 
being  accustomed  to  literary  research,  mere  desultory  reading 
ceases  to  be  an  occupation.  There  is  as  much  difference  be- 
tween them,  in  point  of  interest,  as  between  taking  an  airing 
on  horseback  and  galloping  after  the  hounds.  It  is  pretty  hard 
for  an  old  huntsman  to  give  up  the  chase. 

In  the  following  June,  being  "  ordered  to  throw  by 
his  pen,  and  abstain  from  head  work  of  all  kinds  for  a 
time,"  he  left  his  manuscript  with  me  to  look  over,  and 
give  him  my  impressions  of  the  work,  and  set  out  for 
Kennedy's,  connecting  with  his  journey  some  object 
of  advantage  in  inspecting  the  manuscripts  of  Mr. 
Washington  Lewis,  which  had  been  mentioned  to  him 
as  containing  letters  and  diaries  of  Washington,  and  a 
visit  to  some  places  noted  in  Washington's  history. 

From  Philadelphia,  where  his  compagnon  de  voyage 
from  New  York  left  him,  to  continue  on  to  Washing- 
ton in  the  night  train,  at  ten  o'clock,  while  he  retired 
to  his  room,  he  writes  me,  June  13th,  as  follows  : 

Inform  my  beloved  family  of  my  well-being,  as  well  as  of 
my  extraordinary  prudence  and  self-restraint  in  not  continuing 

on  in  the  night  train  with  Mr.  P ,  to  which  I  confess  I  felt 

sorely  tempted.  But  I  gain  prudence  with  years,  and,  I  trust, 
will  in  time  be  all  that  my  friends  could  wish. 


Aft  TO.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  149 

[To  Mrs.  Pierre  M.  Irving.] 

Ellicott's  Mills,  Juno  15, 1S53. 

My  deaii  Helen  : 

I  arrived  at  Baltimore  yesterday,  between  one  and  two 
o'clock,  after  a  pretty  warm  and  dusty  ride  from  Philadelphia. 
However,  as  I  sat  by  a  window  on  the  shady  side  of  the  cars, 
I  did  not  suffer  much  from  the  heat. 

I  found  Kennedy  on  the  lookout  for  me.  He  had  expected 
me  the  evening  before.  The  family  were  all  out  of  town,  at 
old  Mr.  Gray's  country  establishment,  where  I  am  now  writing. 
We  dined  at  Kennedy's  brother,  Anthony's,  in  Baltimore,  and 
had  a  very  gay  family  dinner,  after  which  we  came  out  in  the 
evening  train,  and  had  a  beautiful  drive  along  the  lovely  valley 
of  the  Patapsco,  on  the  banks  of  which  stream  the  country  resi- 
dence is  situated.  You  may  have  an  idea  of  the  house  from 
an  engraving  in  Putnam's  "  Homes  of  American  Authors." 

We  found  the  family  all  assembled  round  the  tea  table  ; 
and  a  bright,  happy  gathering  it  was,  there  being  a  matter  of 
five  young  ladies,  guests  in  the  house.  Among  the  number,  J 
was  delighted  to  meet  with  one  of  the  three  young  belles  with 
whom  I  was  domesticated  at  Washington — the  one  who  plays 
so  admirably  on  the  piano.  There  was  great  greeting  on  all 
sides,  and  most  especially  by  my  warmhearted  old  friend,  Mr. 
Gray. 

The  evening  passed  delightfully.     TVe  had  music  from  Miss 

A .     "We  sat  out  in  the  moonlight  on  the  piazza,   and 

strolled  along  the  banks  of  the  Patapsco,  after  which  I  went 
to  bed,  had  a  sweet  night's  sleep,  and  dreamt  I  was  in  Ma- 
homet's paradise.     *    *    * 


150  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1853. 

Juno  22d,  lie  writes  to  Miss  Sarah  Irving,  from 
Cassilis,  the  residence  of  Mr.  Andrew  Kennedy  : 

Mr.  John  Kennedy  and  myself  left  Ellicott's  Mills  yester- 
day (Monday)  morning,  in  the  train  which  passed  at  nine 
o'clock.  *  *  *  We  had  an  extremely  hot  drive  of  about 
a  hundred  miles,  but  through  lovely  scenery.  The  railroad  fol- 
lows up  the  course  of  the  Patapsco  to  its  head  springs,  and  a 
romantic  stream  it  is  throughout.  The  road  then  crosses  some 
fine,  open,  fertile  country  on  the  summit  of  Elk  Ridge,  and  de- 
scends along  the  course  of  Reynolds's  Creek  and  the  Monocacy 
to  the  Potomac,  all  beautiful.  At  Harper's  Ferry  we  changed 
cars,  and  pushed  on  to  Charleston,  where  we  found  Mr.  An- 
drew Kennedy  waiting  for  us  with  his  carriage.  A  drive  of 
about  a  mile  and  a  half  brought  us  to  his  seat,  whence  this  let- 
ter is  dated.  Here  I  am,  in  the  centre  of  the  magnificent  val- 
ley of  the  Shenandoah,  the  great  valley  of  Virginia.  And  a 
glorious  valley  it  is — equal  to  the  promised  land  for  fertility,  far 
superior  to  it  for  beauty,  and  inhabited  by  an  infinitely  superior 
people — choice,  tbough  not  chosen. 

%  *  *  *  *  * 

To-morrow  I  expect  to  go,  in  company  with  the  two  Mr. 
Kennedys,  on  a  visit  to  Mr.  George  Washington  Lewis,  who 
has  a  noble  estate  about  twelve  miles  off,  where  we  shall 
remain  until  the  next  day. 

I  have  several  places  to  visit  in  this  vicinity,  connected 
with  the  history  of  Washington,  after  which  we  shall  push 
on  to  the  mountains,  where  we  shall  find  a  cooler  tempera- 
ture.    *    *     * 


JEt.  70.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  151 

Daring  this  absence,  I  "was  at  Simnyside,  mounting 
guard,  as  he  terms  it,  and  reading  over  his  Life  of  Wash- 
ington in  manuscript,  then  nearly  completed  to  the  com- 
mencement of  the  Administration.  I  -wrote  to  him  that 
I  was  proceeding  with  the  Life  of  "Washington  with  an 
interest  that  seemed  almost  surprising  to  myself ;  and 
that  I  could  not  have  believed  that  so  much  of  fresh- 
ness and  new  interest  could  be  thrown  about  a  subject 
so  often  gone  over.     The  following  is  his  reply  : 

Cassilis,  June  25, 1853. 

My  dear  Pierre  : 

Your  letter  of  the  19th,  received  two  or  three  days  since, 
lias  put  me  quite  in  spirits.  From  your  opinion  of  my  manu- 
scripts, I  begin  to  hope  that  my  labor  has  not  been  thrown 
away.  Do  not  make  a  toil  of  reading  the  manuscripts,  but 
take  it  leisurely,  so  as  to  keep  yourself  fresh  in  the  perusal, 
and  to  judge  quietly  and  coolly  of  its  merits  and  defects. 

I  have  paid  my  visit  to  Mr.  George  Washington  Lewis,  to 
inspect  the  manuscripts  in  his  possession.  His  seat  (Audley) 
is  about  twelve  or  fourteen  mile3  from  this.  Andrew  and 
John  Kennedy  accompanied  me.  We  went  on  Wednesday, 
and  returned  on  Thursday.  The  visit  was  a  most  agreeable 
one.  We  were  hospitably  entertained  by  Mr.  Lewis,  who  is  a 
young  man  of  engaging  appearance  and  manners.  *  *  * 
His  mother,  however,  is  the  real  custodian  of  the  Washington 
reliques  and  papers,  which  she  laid  before  me  with  great  satis- 
faction. I  did  not  find  much  among  the  manuscripts  requiring 
note.  In  less  than  an  hour  I  had  made  all  the  memoranda 
necessary.     *     *     * 

Yesterday  I  drove  out  with  the  Kennedys,  to  visit   two 


152  LIFE  AND   LETTERS  [1853. 

other  establishments  of  the  Washington  family  in  this  neigh- 
borhood, the  proprietors  of  which  had  called  to  see  me  during 
my  absence  at  Audley.  These  visits  are  all  full  of  interest ; 
but  I  will  tell  you  all  about  them  when  we  meet.     *     *     * 

To-day  we  are  to  visit  some  other  places  of  note  in  the 
neighborhood.  On  Monday,  the  day  after  to-morrow,  I  set  off 
with  Mr.  John  Kennedy  and  his  bachelor  brother,  Pendleton 
Kennedy,  for  the  mountains. 

I  must  again  apologize  for  my  wretched  scrawl ;  but  it 
seems  hard  work  for  me  to  extract  any  ideas  out  of.  my  weary 
brain,  which  is  as  dry  as  "  a  remainder  biscuit." 

I  hope  you  will  continue  to  mount  guard  at  Sunnyside 
during  my  absence. 

"With  love  to  all,  your  affectionate  uncle, 

Washington  Irving. 

The  next  day,  in  replying  to  a  letter  of  Mrs.  Irving 
giving  him  some  account  of  affairs  at  Sunnyside,  where 
we  were  sojourning,  and  speaking  encouragingly  of  his 
manuscript  Life  of  Washington,  he  remarks  : 

I  never  shall  be  able,  I  fear,  to  give  it  the  toning  up  which 
a  painter  gives  to  his  picture  before  finishing  it.  I  am  afraid 
my  head  will  not  bear  much  more  work  of  the  kind.  It  gives 
me  hints,  even  when  I  am  scrawling  letters. 

[To  Miss  Kate  Irving.'] 

Berkeley  Springs  (Bam),  July  1, 1853. 

My  dear  Kate  : 

I  received,  yesterday,  your  letter  of  Sunday  and  Monday 
last,  and  rejoice  to  find  you  have  all  survived  the  late  intense 


uEt.  70.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  153 

weather.  I  have  been  for  four  or  five  days  in  this  watering 
place,  which  is  in  a  small  valley  among  the  mountains,  and,  as 
far  as  my  experience  goes,  one  of  the  hottest  places  in  the 
known  world.  You  will  be  surprised  to  learn,  however,  that 
my  greatest  amusement,  during  the  heat  of  the  day,  is  at  the 
ten-pin  alley,  and  that  I  am  getting  quite  expert  at  bowling. 
The  perspiration  it  produces  is  awful,  and  only  to  be  allayed 
by  the  cool  baths  for  which  this  place  is  famous. 

To-morrow  I  trust  to  emerge  from  this  oven,  and  to  return 
with  Mr.  Andrew  Kennedy  to  Cassilis,  where  I  shall  be  once 
more  within  the  reach  of  cooling  breezes.     *     *     * 

Tell  Robert  [the  gardener]  I  charge  him  not  to  work  in 
the  sun  during  the  hottest  hours  of  the  day,  should  this  intense 
warm  weather  continue.  He  injured  himself  by  it  last  sum- 
mer ;  and  I  would  not  have  anything  happen  to  him  for  all  the 
hay  in  the  country.     *     *     * 

Farewell.     The  weather  is  so  hot  that  I  cannot  write,  nor 
do  anything  else  but  play  at  bowls  and  fan  myself. 
"With  love  to  all,  your  affectionate  uncle, 

Washington  Irving. 

On  the  6th  of  July,  I  wrote  him  that  I  had  con- 
cluded the  perusal  of  his  manuscript  the  day  before, 
and  that  the  impression  I  communicated  in  my  former 
letter  had  gained  strength  by  what  I  had  since  read. 
"  Familiar  as  I  am  with  the  story,"  I  add,  "  I  have 
been  equally  surprised  and  gratified  to  perceive  what 
new  interest  it  gains  in  your  hands.  I  doubt  not  the 
work  will  be  equally  entertaining  to  young  and  old." 
The  following  is  his  reply  : 
Vol.  IV.— 7* 


154  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1853. 

Ellicott's  Mills,  July  8, 1S53. 

My  dear  Pierre  : 

I  have  just  received  your  letter  of  the  6th,  which  I  need 
not  tell  you  has  been  most  gratifying  and  inspiriting  to  me.  I 
thank  you  for  writing  it ;  for  I  was  looking  most  anxiously  and 
dubiously  for  your  verdict,  after  reading  the  narrative  of  the 
war,  in  which  the  interest,  I  feared,  might  suffer  from  diffusion, 
and  from  the  difficulty  of  binding  up  a  variety  of  enterprises 
and  campaigns  into  one  harmonious  whole.  I  now  feel  my 
mind  prodigiously  relieved,  and  begin  to  think  I  have  not 
labored  in  vain. 

I  left  Bath  shortly  after  I  wrote  to  Kate.  "We  had  in- 
tended a  tour  among  the  Alleghanies,  but  the  intense  heat  of 
the  weather  discouraged  us,  and  we  determined  to  postpone 
that  part  of  our  plan  to  another  season. 

Returning  to  Cassilis,  we  passed  a  few  days  more  under  the 
hospitable  roof  of  Mr.  Andrew  Kennedy,  where  I  saw  some- 
thing of  a  harvest  home  in  the  noble  valley  of  the.  Shen- 
andoah. 

Leaving  Cassilis  on  Wednesday  morning,  we  arrived  here 
before  sunset.     *    *    * 

Tell  Sarah  I  have  received  her  letter  of  the  1st  July,  but 
cannot  answer  it  at  present.  To  tell  the  truth,  though  my 
excursion  has  put  me  in  capital  health  and  spirits,  I  find  I 
cannot  handle  the  pen,  even  in  these  miserable  scrawls,  with- 
out feeling  a  sensation  in  the  head  that  admonishes  me  to  re- 
frain. Think,  then,  how  gratifying  it  must  be  to  me  to  learn 
from  your  letter  that  I  may  dispense  from  any  severe  task 
work  in  completing  my  historical  labor. 

I  feel  that  my  working  days  are  over,  and  rejoice  that  I 
have  arrived  at  a  good  stopping  place. 


At.  70.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRYING.  155 

At  this  period,  he  did  not  think  of  continuing  the 
Life  through  the  history  of  the  Administration,  but 
proposed  to  make  the  inauguration  of  "Washington  his 
"stopping  place."  Hence  his  premature  felicitation 
that  he  had  reached  the  end  of  his  "  working  days." 
He  was  yet  to  give  a  great  deal  of  handling  even  to 
the  part  he  deemed  finished ;  but  when  he  returned  to 
Sunnyside,  it  was  with  the  desire  and  intention  of  pre- 
paring the  Life  at  once  for  the  press — an  intention 
frustrated  by  the  condition  of  his  health. 


15(5  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1853. 


CHAPTEE    IX. 


EXCURSION  TO  THE  SPRINGS — NIAGARA,  ETC. — EXTRACT  OF  LETTER  TO  MISS  MART 
E.  KENNEDY — OGDENSBURG  REVISITED — LETTER  TO  JOHN  P.  KENNEDY — EX- 
TRACT OF  LETTER  TO  MRS.  STORROW — HIS  FINAL  RESTING  PLACE  MARKED  OUT 
— SETS  OFF  ON  AN  EXCURSION — LETTER  TO  MISS  SARAH  IRVING — THE  IRVING 
HOUSE — TRAVELLING  ON  HIS  CAPITAL — THE  ST.  NICHOLAS  HOTEL — EXTRACT 
FROM  LETTER  TO  MISS  CATHERINE  IRVING — EXPEDITION  TO  WINCHESTER  AND 
GREENWAT    COURT — RETURN   TO   SUNNYSIDE — LETTER    TO   MRS.    KENNEDY. 


inOR  some  time  before  he  went  to  Virginia,  in 
-*-  June,  1853,  Mr.  Irving  had  to  lay  aside  the  pen 
almost  entirely,  "  having  overtasked  myself,"  he  says, 
"  and  produced  a  weariness  of  the  brain  that  renders 
it  an  irksome  effort  even  to  scrawl  an  ordinary  letter." 
On  his  return,  though  in  excellent  general  health,  he 
found  himself  still  unable  to  resume  his  literary  occu- 
pations, and  thereupon  determined  to  set  off  for  Sara- 
toga, the  waters  of  which  were  of  such  service  to  him 
the  preceding  year,  and  might  be  this ;  "  though,"  he 
says,  "  I  believe  all  that  I  require  is  a  good  spell  of 
I  itcrary  abstinence. ' ' 

He  did  not  remain  long  at  the  Springs.  "  I  feel  a 
little  fatigued  with  the  bustle  of  the  place,"  he  writes, 
August  6th,  a  few  days  after  his  arrival,   "  and  the 


^Et.  70.]  OF  •WASHINGTON  IRVING.  157 

very  attentions  I  receive  begin  to  be  a  task  upon  my 
spirits." 

The  following  letter,  written  after  his  return  home, 
will  continue  the  story  of  his  travels.  His  reminis- 
cence of  the  Ogdensburg  of  his  boyhood  will  recall  a 
similar  passage  in  another  letter  in  the  third  chapter 
of  the  first  volume. 

[To  Miss  Mary  E.  Kennedy.] 

Scnn-yside,  Sept.  8, 1S53. 

My  dear  Miss  Kennedy  : 

Indisposition  has  prevented  me  from  replying  earlier  to 
your  -welcome  letter  of  the  4th  August,  which  I  received  about 
three  weeks  since,  on  my  return  from  Saratoga. 

ft  *  ft  ft  ft-  • 

The  hot  weather  was  as  intolerable  at  Saratoga  as  I  had 
found  it  at  Berkeley  Springs  ;  so,  after  passing  about  ten  days 
there,  I  set  off  on  a  tour  with  your  uncle  Johnr  who  wished  to 

visit  the  F s,   at  Buffalo.     We  went  by  the  way  of  the 

lakes,  and  had  a  magnificent  sail  (if  I  may  use  the  word) 
down  Lake  Champlain  in  a  steamer  to  Flattsburg,  whence  we 
made  a  night  journey  by  railroad  to  Ogdensburg.  Here  we 
passed  part  of  a  day — a  very  interesting  one  to  me.  Fifty 
years  had  elapsed  since  I  had  visited  the  place  in  company 
with  a  party  of  gentlemen  proprietors,  with  some  ladies  of 
their  families.  It  was  then  a  wilderness,  and  we  were  quar- 
tered in  the  remains  of  an  old  French  fort  at  the  confluence  of 
the  Oswegatchie  and  the  St.  Lawrence.  It  was  all  a  scene  of 
romance  to  me,  for  I  was  then  a  mere  stripling,  and  everything 
was  strange,  and  full  of  poetry.  The  country  was  covered 
with  forest ;    the  Indians  still  inhabited  some  islands  in  the 


158  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [185S. 

river,  and  prowled  about  in  their  canoes.  There  were  two 
young  ladies  of  the  party  to  sympathize  in  my  romantic  feel- 
ings, and  we  passed  some  happy  days  there,  exploring  the  for- 
ests, or  gliding  in  canoes  on  the  rivers. 

In  my  present  visit,  I  found,  with  difficulty,  the  site  of  the 
old  French  fort,  but  all  traces  of  it  were  gone.  I  looked 
round  on  the  surrounding  country  and  river.  All  was  changed. 
A  populous  city  occupied  both  sides  of  the  Oswegatchie ; 
great  steamers  ploughed  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  the  opposite 
Canada  shore  was  studded  with  towns  and  villages.  I  sat 
down  on  the  river  bank,  where  we  used  to  embark  in  our 
canoes,  and  thought  on  the  two  lovely  girls  who  used  to  navi- 
gate it  with  me,  and  the  joyous  party  who  used  to  cheer  us 
from  the  shore.  All  had  passed  away — all  were  dead  !  I 
was  the  sole  survivor  of  that  happy  party ;  and  here  I  had 
returned,  after  a  lapse  of  fifty  years,  to  sit  down  and  meditate 
on  the  mutability  of  all  things,  and  to  wonder  that  I  was  still 
alive ! 

From  Ogdensburg  we  made  a  voyage  up  the  St.  Lawrence, 
through  the  archipelago  of  the  "  Thousand  Islands,"  and  across 
Lake  Ontario  to  Lewistown,  on  the  Niagara  Eiver,  where  Ave 
took  a  carriage  to  the  Falls.  There  we  passed  an  insufferably 
hot  day,  and  parted  in  the  evening — your  uncle  to  go  to  Buf- 
falo, I  to  Cayuga  Lake  to  visit  one  of  my  nieces ;  whence  I 

went  to   Syracuse  to   visit    Mrs.    B ,   and  then   hastened 

homeward.  All  this  tour  was  made  during  a  spell  of  intensely 
hot  weather,  that  deranged  my  whole  system.  The  conse- 
quence was,  that,  the  day  after  my  return  home,  I  was  taken 
down  with  a  violent  fever  and  delirium,  which  confined  me 
several  days  to  my  bed.    *    *    * 


At.  70.]  OF  WASHINGTON   IRVING.  159 

He  had  hardly  got  rid  of  his  fever,  and  was  still  in 
a  state  of  great  debility,  when  he  addressed  the  follow- 
in"-  letter  to  the  friend  and  travelling  companion  with 
whom  he  parted  at  Niagara  Falls  : 

[To  Mr.  John  P.  Kennedy.] 

Sosntside,  Aug.  24, 1853. 

My  dear  Kennedy  : 

■  After  much  weary  travelling  by  land  and  -water,  by  night 
and -day,  through  dust  and  heat  and  "fell  morass,"  I  reached 
home  on  Wednesday  last,  and  almost  immediately  broke  down.% 
"Whatever  it  was  of  evil  that  had  been  lurking  in  my  system 
for  some  time  past,  took  vent  in  a  spell  of  chills,  fever,  and 
delirium,  which  hung  over  me  for  several  days,  and  has  almost 
torn  me  to  rags.  I  avail  myself  of  a  tolerably  sane  fragment 
of  myself  which  is  left,  to  scrawl  these  lines. 

You  will  now  perceive,  my  dear  Horseshoe,  that  when  I 
was  a  little  techy  under  your  bantering  at  Niagara,  it  was  not 
the  fault  of  your  jokes — which  were  excellent,  as  usual — but 
because  I  was  too  miserably  out  of  tune  to  be  played  upon,  be 
the  musician  ever  so  skilful. 

I  trust  this  outbreak  of  malady,  when  I  get  through  with 
it,  will  carry  off  with  it  all  the  evils  that  have  been  haunting 
my  system  for  some  time  past,  and  that,  when  next  we  meet,  I 
shall  relish  your  jokes  with  my  usual  hearty  zest,  even  though, 
by  singular  chance,  they  should  happen  to  be  bad  ones. 

I  fear,  however,  I  shall  not  be  strong  enough  to  go  sight- 
seeing with  you  in  New  York ;  and,  indeed,  have  seen  so 
much  of  the  Crystal  Palace  in  my  delirium,  that  I  am  afraid 
the  very  sight  of  it  would  bring  on  a  paroxysm. 

I  look  forward,  however,  to  a  visit  from  you  all  at  my 


IQQ  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1S53. 

"  small  contentment,"  where,  however  I  may  be,  my  nieces 
will  be  happy  to  entertain  you  in  their  own  modest  way,  on 
our  rural  fare — "  a  couple  of  shortlegged  hens,  a  joint  of  mut- 
ton, with  any  pretty  little  tiny  kickshaws,"  or,  peradventure, 
with  a  juicy  ham  sent  to  me  from  the  banks  of  the  Patapsco, 
by  a  much-valued  and  somewhat  musical  friend  who  flourishes 
in  that  quarter.  To  that  excellent  friend,  and  his  two  inesti- 
mable daughters,  give  my  most  affectionate  remembrances. 

"  Thine  evermore,"  my  dear  Horseshoe,  "  while  this  ma- 
chine is  to  him." 

Geoffrey. 

Very  soon  after  the  date  of  this  letter,  Mr.  Irving 
received  the  visit  to  which  he  was  looking  forward 

from  Mr.  and  Mrs.  JKennedy,  and  Mr.  and  Miss  G , 

who  passed  the  day  at  Sunnyside.  "  I  do  not  know," 
he  writes  to  Miss  Kennedy,  "  when  I  enjoyed  a  day 
more  thoroughly.  I  only  wish  you  had  been  here,  to 
make  the  party  complete." 

The  following  extract  contains  an  interesting  men- 
tion of  the  rural  cemetery  in  which,  "  after  life's  fitful 
fever,"  he  was  himself  to  sleep.  It  is  addressed  to  his 
niece  in  Paris,  as  he  was  on  the  point  of  setting  off  on 
another  visit  to  Maryland  and  Virginia  : 

[To  Mrs.  Storroiv.] 

Scnntside,  Sept.  29,  1S53. 
****** 
I  have  had  one  solemn  and  sacred  duty  to  perform,  of  late ; 
which  was,  to  remove  from-  New  .York  the  remains  of  such  of 


uEt.  70.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  lQ-± 

the  family  as  were  interred  in  the  vault  in  front  of  the  Brick 
Clmrcli,  in  Beekman  street.  That  street  was  to  be  widened 
and,  of  course,  the  churchyard  invaded.  I  have  always  appre- 
hended some  such  event,  and  am  glad  it  has  taken  place  while 
I  am  here  to  protect  the  ashes  of  those  I  loved  from  desecra- 
tion. I  accordingly  purchased  a  piece  of  ground  in  a  public 
cemetery  established  within  a  few  years  on  the  high  ground 
adjacent  to  the  old  Dutch  church  at  Beekman's  millpond,  com- 
monly called  the  Sleepy  Hollow  Church.  The  cemetery,  which 
is  secured  by  an  act  of  the  Legislature,  takes  in  a  part  of  the 
Beekman  woods,  and  commands  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
views  of  the  Hudson.  The  spot  I  have  purchased  is  on  the 
southern  slope,  just  on  the  edge  of  the  old  churchyard,  which 
is  included  in  the  cemetery.  I  have  had  it  enclosed  with  an 
iron  railing,  and  shall  have  evergreens  set  out  around  it.  It  is 
shaded  by  a  grove  of  young  oaks. 

There  I  have  seen  the  remains  of  the  family  gathered  to- 
gether and  interred,  where  they  cannot  be  again  disturbed  ; 
and  a  vast  satisfaction  it  was,  to  have  rescued  them  from  that 
restless  city,  where  nothing  is  sacred. 

As  I  was  selecting  this  place  of  sepulture,  I  thought  of 
Byron's  lines : 

"  Then  look  around, 
And  choose  thy  ground, 
And  take  thy  rest." 

I  have  marked  out  my  resting  place  by  my  mother's  side,  and 
a  space  is  left  for  me  there. 

This  may  seem  to  you  rather  a  melancholy  theme  for  letter 
writing.     Yet  I  write  without  melancholy,  or,  rather,  without 
gloom.     I  feel  deeply  gratified  at  having  been  able  to  perform 
Vol.  IV.— (11) 


1(32  L1FE  AND  LETTERS  [1853. 

this  duty,  and  I  look  forward  with  serene  satisfaction  to  being 
gathered  at  last  to  a  family  gathering  place,  where  my  dust 
may  mingle  with  the  dust  of  those  most  dear  to  me. 

God  bless  you,  my  dear  Sarah.  I  owe  my  dear  little  Kate 
a  letter,  but  have  not  time  at  present  to  answer  it.  Give  my 
love  to  her  and  the  other  young  princesses,  and  my  affectionate 
remembrances  to  Mr.  Storrow. 

Your  affectionate  uncle, 

"Washington  Irving. 

P.  S. — I  set  off  on  my  expedition  this  afternoon,  and  ex- 
pect to  be  absent  nearly  all  October. 

I  give  some  letters  written  during  this  excursion, 
the,  first  dated,  as  will  be  seen,  the  night  of  his  depar- 
ture, at  a  hotel  named  in  his  honor  in  New  York  : 

[ To  Miss  Sarah  Irving.] 

Irving  House,  Friday  Evening,  Sept.  29, 1853. 

My  dear  Sarah  : 

I  hasten  to  inform  you  of  my  well-being,  as  I  know  you 
will  be  anxious.  I  arrived  in  town  safe,  and  proceeded  to  the 
Irving  House,  where  I  asked  for  a  room.  "What  party  had  I 
with  me  ?  None.  Had  I  not  my  lady  with  me  ?  No ;  I 
was  alone.  I  saw  my  chance  was  a  bad  one,  and  I  feared  to 
be  put  in  a  dungeon,  as  I  was  on  a  former  occasion.  I  be- 
thought myself  of  your  advice,  and,  when  the  book  was  pre- 
sented, wrote  my  name  at  full  length — from  Sunnyside.  My 
dear  Sarah,  I  was  ushered  into  an  apartment  on  the  first  floor 
(second  story),  furnished  with  rosewood,  yellow  damask,  pier 
glasses,  &c. ;  a  sumptuous  bedroom,  with  a  bed  large  enough 


JSt.  70.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  163 

for  an  alderman  and  his  wife  ;  a  bathroom  adjoining.  In  a 
word,  I  am  accommodated  completely  en  prince.  The  negro 
waiters  all  call  me  by  name,  and  vie  with  each  other  in  waiting 
on  me.  The  chambermaid  has  been  at  uncommon  pains  to  put 
my  rooms  in  first-rate  order ;  and,  if  she  had  been  pretty,  I 
absolutely  should  have  kissed  her ;  but  as  she  was  not,  I  shall 
reward  her  in  sordid  coin.  Henceforth  I  abjure  all  modesty 
with  hotel  keepers,  and  will  get  as  much  for  my  name  as  it 
will  fetch.     Kennedy  calls  it  travelling  on  one's  capital. 

I  am  at  a  loss  where  to  go  this  evening — the  Crystal  Pal- 
ace, Julien's,  or  the  opera.  I  shall  let  you  know,  before  I  go 
to  bed,  my  decision  in  the  matter. 

My  dear  Sarah,  I  have  just  returned.  It  is  near  twelve 
o'clock.  They  have  made  such  a  fire  in  my  sitting  room,  that 
it  is  roasting  to  sit  there  ;  and  I  am  sleepy,  so  I  must  be  brief. 
I  determined  to  go  to  the  opera ;  but,  on  the  way,  as  it  was 
early,  I  strolled  into  the  St.  Nicholas  Hotel,  to  take  a  look  at 
it.  It  beats  everything  of  the  hotel  kind  I  have  ever  seen.  I 
wandered  up  stairs  and  down  stairs  and  into  the  ladies'  saloon. 
Such  splendor ;  such  extent ;  such  long  corridors  and  vast 
saloons  ;  and  such  crowds  of  well-dressed  people  and  beautiful 
ladies !  In  the  course  of  my  rambles,  I  came  upon  Mr. 
Baldwin,  who  is  boarding  there.  He  took  me  all  about  to  see 
the  wonders  of  the  house,  and,  among  other  places,  took  me 
into  the  bridal  chamber,  about  which  so  much  has  been  said. 
It  is  very  magnificent,  but,  I  am  told,  has  never  been  occupied 
excepting  by  a  Californian  prince  and  his  bride. 

On  the  17th  of  October,  a  day  or  two  after  his 
arrival  at  the  residence  of  Mr.  Andrew  Kennedy,  near 


164  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1853. 

Harper's  Ferry,  Mr.  Irving  set  off  with  that  gentleman 
and  his  brother,  Mr.  John  P.  Kennedy,  for  "Winches- 
ter, whence  they  extended  their  excursion  to  Greenway 
Court,  once  the  residence  of  old  Lord  Fairfax,  the  early 
patron  of  Washington,  and  an  occasional  resort  of  the 
latter  in  his  youthful  days.  In  the  following  letter  the 
reader  is  furnished  with  an  amusing  account  of  the  ex- 
pedition to  these  historic  points  : 

[To  Miss  Sarah  Irving, .] 

Cassilis,  Oct.  21, 1853. 

My  dear  Sarah  : 

The  expedition  to  Winchester  and  Greenway  Court,  in 
company  with  Messrs.  John  and  Andrew  Kennedy,  was  very 
pleasant.  We  went  to  Winchester  by  railroad,  and  then  hired 
a  carriage  and  an  old  negro  coachman  to  take  us  to  Greenway 
Court,  once  the  residence  of  old  Lord  Fairfax,  and  a  resort  of 
Washington  in  his  younger  days.  We  set  off  from  Winches- 
ter in  the  afternoon.  The  distance  to  Greenway  Court  was 
said  to  be  about  twelve  miles,  but  the  roads  so  bad  that  it 
would  be  impossible  to  return  to  Winchester  the  same  evening. 
What  was  to  be  done  ?  Greenway  Court  was  no  longer 
habitable.  There  was  no  good  country  inn  near  at  hand.  Mr. 
Andrew  Kennedy  determined  to  seek  quarters  at  the  house  of 
a  Mr.  Nelson,  who  resided  about  three  miles  from  the  Court, 
and  with  whom  he  was  acquainted.  We  hoped  to  reach  his 
house  before  sunset,  so  as  to  seek  quarters  elsewhere  should  we 
fail  to  find  them  there.  We  had  a  delightful  afternoon  drive, 
through  a  fine  country  diversified  by  noble  forests  in  all  the 
glory  of  their  autumnal  hues.  I  saw  some  of  the  noblest 
specimens  of  oaks  I  have   ever  seen   in  this  country.     The 


At.  70.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  165 

roads,  in  many  places,  were  very  bad.  We  travelled  slowly. 
The  sun  went  down  in  great  splendor,  and  the  landscape  soon 
began  to  darken.  Our  black  John  knew  nothing  of  the  situa- 
tion eilher  of  Greenway  Court  or  of  Mr.  Nelson.  We  made 
inquiries  along  the  road,  but  received  replies-  which  rather  per- 
plexed us.  It  grew  quite  dark  before  we  reached  a  gate, 
which,  we  were  told,  opened  into  Mr.  Nelson's  grounds.  We 
drove  across  two  or  three  broad  fields — opened  as  many  com- 
mon country  gates.  Nothing  had  the  appearance  of  the  ap- 
proach to  a  gentleman's  seat.  I  began  to  feel  dubious.  It 
seemed  very  much  of  an  intrusion,  for  three  persons  to  drive 
up  to  a  gentleman's  house  after  dark,  and  ask  quarters  for  the 
night.  The  Kennedys  laughed  at  my  scruples.  It  was  the 
custom  in  Virginia.  Mr.  Nelson  would  be  glad  to  receive  us. 
"Perhaps,"  said  I,  "he  may  not  have  room."  "Oh,  yes;  he 
has  lately  enlarged  his  house.  You  will  find  yourself  in 
clover."  We  drove  on.  No  signs  of  a  house.  We  might 
have  mistaken  the  road.  At  length  we  saw  a  light  twinkling 
at  a  distance.  It  appeared  to  be  from  a  small  house.  More 
consultation.  This  might  not  be  Mr.  Nelson's ;  or  he  might 
not  have  enlarged  his  house.  For  my  part,  I  was  so  fatigued, 
that  I  declared  myself  resigned  to  quarters  in  a  barn,  provided 
Mr.  Nelson  would  allow  me  a  little  clean  straw.  The  road 
gradually  wound  up  to  the  house.  As  we  approached,  the 
moon,  rising  above  a  skirt  of  forest  trees,  lit  up  the  scene,  and 
we  saw  a  noble  mansion  crowning  a  rising  ground,  with  grand 
portico  and  columns,  and  wings  surmounted  with  battlements. 
We  drove  up  to  the  door.  A  negro  boy  came  forth,  like  a 
dwarf  from  an  enchanted  castle.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Nelson  were 
both  from  home  !  What  was  to  be  done  ?  It  was  too  late  to 
go  wandering  about  the  country  in  quest   of   other   quarters. 


1QQ  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1S53. 

"Would  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Nelson  be  home  soon  ?  Oh,  yes ;  they 
had  gone  to  make  a  visit  in  the  neighborhood,  and  would  be 
back  to  tea.  Mr.  Nelson's  mother-in-law  was  in  the  house ; 
that  would  do.  We  alighted  ;  entered  a  spacious  hall  upward 
of  twenty  feet  wide,  with  a  beautiful  circular  staircase  ;  thence 
into  a  noble  dining  room,  where  the  tea  table  was  set  out,  but 
nobody  present.  After  a  time,  the  mother-in-law  made  her  ap- 
pearance. Mr.  John  Kennedy  was  slightly  acquainted  with  her, 
and  introduced  us.  She  was  very  civil,  and  by  no  means  dis- 
posed to  set  the  dogs  on  us.  I  began  to  have  hopes  of  some- 
thing better  than  the  barn.  After  a  time,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Nel- 
son came  home.  They  accosted  us  in  true  Virginia  style. 
Mr.  Nelson  claimed  some  acquaintance  with  me.  He  reminded 
me  of  his  having  introduced  himself  to  me  three  years  before, 
at  the  Revere  House  in  Boston,  when  I  was  on  there  with  the 

G s ;  and  said  he  had  a  prior  acquaintance,  having  been 

one  of  a  committee  of  the  students  at  the  University  of  Char- 
lottesville, who,  about  twenty  years  since,  waited  on  me  at  the 
hotel  to  invite  me  to  accept  a  public  dinner. 

In  a  word,  we  were  made  at  once  to  feel  ourselves  at 
home  ;  invited  to  pass  several  days  there.  Mr.  Nelson  would 
take  us  all  about  the  country,  and  make  us  acquainted  with  all 
his  neighbors. 

We  had  glorious  quarters  that  night.  The  next  day  Mr. 
Nelson  took  us  to  Greenway  Court.  Had  a  large  party  of  the 
neighboring  gentlemen  to  meet  us  at  dinner ;  and  it  was  with 
great  difficulty  we  got  away  in  time  to  return  in  the  evening  to 
Winchester. 

So  much  for  my  expedition  to  Greenway  Court. 

To-morrow  I  set  off,  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Kennedy,  on  our 
.return  to  Ellicott's  Mills,  and,. in  the  beginning  of  next  week, 


Mr.  70.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  167 

shall  take  my  departure  for  New  York,  to  be  at  my  post  at 
the  Astor  Library  on  "Wednesday. 

The  following  is  an  extract  from  a  letter  to  Mrs. 
Kennedy,  written  after  his  return  home  : 

How  comes  on  the  "  house  that  Jack  built " — or  is  to  build  ? 
I  envy  Kennedy  the  job  of  building  that  tower,  if  he  has  half 
the  relish  that  I  have  for  castle  building — air  castles,  or  any 
other.  I  should  like  nothing  better  than  to  have  plenty  of 
money  to  squander  on  stone  and  mortar,  and  to  build  chateaux 
along  the  beautiful  Patapsco  with  the  noble  stone  which 
abounds  there  ;  but  I  would  first  blow  up  all  the  cotton  mills 
(your  father's  among  the  number),  and  make  picturesque  ruins 
of  them  ;  and  I  would  utterly  destroy  the  railroad  ;  and  all  the 
cotton  lords  should  live  in  baronial  castles  on  the  cliffs,  and  the 
cotton  spinners  should  be  virtuous  peasantry  of  both  sexes,  in 
silk  skirts  and  small  clothes  and  straw  hats,  with  long  ribbands, 
and  should  do  nothing  but  sing  songs  and  choruses,  and  dance 
on  the  margin  of  the  river. 

Of  late,  I  have  gratified  my  building  propensity  in  a  small 
way,  by  putting  lip  a  cottage  for  my  gardener  and  his  hand- 
some wife,  and  have  indulged  in  other  unprofitable  improve- 
ments incident  to  a  gentleman  cultivator.  A  pretty  country 
retreat  is  like  a  pretty  wife — one  is  always  throwing  away 
money  in  decorating  it.  Fortunately,  I  have  but  one  of  those 
two  drains  to  the  purse,  and  so  do  not  repine. 

I  see  you  are  again  throwing  out  lures  to  tempt  me  back  to 

Baltimore,  and  sending  me  messages  from  M D and 

dear  little  "  Lu  ;"  and  I  have  a  letter  from  Mr.  Andrew  Ken- 
nedv,   inviting  me  to  come  to  Cassilis  and  the   Shenandoah, 


1(38  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1853. 

when  I  am  tired  of  the  Hudson.  Ah,  me  !  I  am  but  mortal 
man,  and  but  too  easily  tempted ;  and  I  begin  to  think  you 
have  been  giving  me  love  powders  among  you — I  feel  such  a 
hankering  toward  the  South.  But  be  firm,  my  heart !  I  have 
four  blessed  nieces  at  home  hanging  about  my  neck,  and  sev- 
eral others  visiting  me,  and  holding  me  by  the  skirts.  How 
can  I  tear  myself  from  them  ?     Domestic  affection  forbids  it ! 


^Jr.70.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  IgQ 


CHAPTER    X 


EXTRACT  FROM  LETTER  TO  MRS.  KENNEDY — NO  DESIRE  TO  TRAVEL  WITH  POLIT- 
ICAL NOTORIETIES — EXTRACT  FROM  LETTER  TO  MRS.  SANDERS  IRVING — HIS 
OLD  DANCING-SCHOOL  DAYS — A  BREAKFAST  AT  JOHN  DDER'S — THE  NAME  OF 
DEARMAN   CHANGED   TO   IRVINGTON — CONTRIBUTIONS  TO  THE    KNICKERBOCKER 

GALLERY  —  TO     MRS.    KIRKLAND  —  LETTER    TO   JOHN    P.    KENNEDY VISIT    TO 

IDLEWILD — THE  HOME  JOURNAL'S  ACCOUNT  OF  CONVERSATION  ABOUT  MOORE 
— LETTERS  TO  JOHN  P.  KENNEDY — LETTER  TO  MRS.  STORROW — EUROPEAN 
REMINISCENCES. 


rT^HE  following  letter  was  addressed  to  Mrs.  Ken- 
-*-  nedy,  just  as  her  husband  was  about  to  start  on 
a  Southern  tour  with  Mr.  Fillmore,  the  late  President, 
which  was  to  have  taken  place  the  previous  spring,  but 
was  prevented  by  the  death  of  Mrs.  Fillmore.  Mr. 
Kennedy  had  intimated  a  wish  that  Mr.  Irving  should 
accompany  them  ;  "  but  I  have  no  inclination,"  he 
writes,  "  to  travel  with  political  notorieties,  to  be 
smothered  by  the  clouds  of  party  dust  whirled  up  by 
their  chariot  wheels,  and  beset  by  the  speechmaker8 
and  little  great  men  and  bores  of  every  community 
who  might  consider  Mr.  Fillmore  a  candidate  for  an- 
other presidential  term.''  "  Douce  Davie,'"  mentioned 
in  the  letter,  was  the  name  of  a  horse  his  correspondent 
Vol.  IV.— 8 


170  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1854. 

used  to  ride,  and  which  he  had  often  mounted  at  Elli- 
cott's  Mills : 

Sxtnntsidb,  Feb.  21,  1854. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Kennedy  : 

*  *  *  *  *  # 

I  met  Mr.  Meredith  in  town  on  Saturday  last,  and  he  told 
me  that  Kennedy  had  been  unwell.  If  it  is  that  affection  of 
the  head  of  which  he  complained  last  year,  tell  him  I  have 
found,  in  my  own  case,  great  relief  from  homoeopathy,  to 
which  I  had  recourse  almost  accidentally,  for  I  am  rather  slow 
at  adopting  new  theories.  I  can  now  apply  myself  to  literary 
occupation  day  after  day  for  several  hours  at  a  time,  without 
any  recurrence  of  the  symptoms  that  troubled  me.  In  fact, 
my  head  seems  to  be  as  hard  as  ever  it  was — though  perhaps 
somewhat  heavier. 

You  tell  me  Kennedy  is  about  to  set  off  with  Mr.  Fillmore 
on  his  Southern  tour,  and  would  like  to  have  me  for  a  com- 
panion. Heaven  preserve  me  from  any  tour  of  the  kind !  To 
have  to  cope  at  every  turn  with  the  host  of  bores  of  all  kinds 
that  beset  the  paths  of  political  notorieties  !  To  have  to  listen 
to  the  speeches  that  would  be  made,  at  dinners  and  other  occa- 
sions, to  Mr.  Fillmore  and  himself;  and  to  the  speeches  that 
Mr.  Fillmore  and  he  would  make  in  return !  Has  he  not  found 
out,  by  this  time,  how  very  borable  I  am  ?  Has  he  not  seen 
me  skulk  from  barrooms,  and  other  gathering  places,  where  he 
was  making  political  capital  among  the  million  ?  Has  he  for- 
gotten how,  last  summer,  a  crew  of  blatant  firemen,  whose 
brass  trumpets  gave  him  so  much  delight,  absolutely  drove  me 
into  the  wilderness  ?  No,  no.  I  am  ready  at  any  time  to 
clatter  off  on  Douce  Davie  into  the  woods,  with  the  gentle 
Horseshoe,   or   to   scale   the   Alleghanies  with   him    (barring 


Mi.  71.1  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  171 

watering  places) ;  but  as  to  a  political  tour,  I  would  as  lief  go 
campaigning  with  Hudibras  or  Don  Quixote. 

You  ask  me  how  I  have  passed  my  time  this  winter. 
Very  much  at  home — dropping  into  town  occasionally  to  pass 
a  few  hours  at  the  Astor  Library,  but  returning  home  in  the 
evening.  I  have  been  but  once  or  twice  at  the  opera,  and  to 
none  of  Julien's  concerts.  Still  my  time  has  passed  pleas- 
antly in  constant  occupation ;  though  I  begin  to  think  that  I 
often  toil  to  very  little  purpose,  excepting  to  keep  off  ennui, 
and  give  a  zest  to  relaxation.     *     *     • 

The  letter  which  follows,  was  written  on  his  sev- 
enty-first birthday,  to  the  wife  of  a  nephew  rather  deli- 
cate in  health,  and  a  great  favorite,  who  had  been  for 
some  time  housed  at  Simnyside,  and  was  now  "  rough- 
ing it  about  the  world."  It  was  in  reply  to  a  letter 
from  Montgomery,  Ala.,  in  which  she  gave  an  account 
of  her  pilgrimages : 

[To  Mrs.  Sanders  Irving .] 

StfXNYSiDE,  April  3, 1854. 

My  dear  Julia  : 

Sarah  has  engaged  that  I  shall  write  a  postscript  to  her  let- 
ter ;  but  I  am  in  a  sad  state  of  incompetency  to  do  it.  My 
faculties  seem  benumbed,  probably  from  the  long  spell  of  dis- 
mal, wintry  weather  we  have  enjoyed  for  the  last  fortnight.  It 
is  quite  tantalizing  to  read  your  account  of  your  roses  and  rho- 
dodendrons, and  the  budding  and  blossoming  of  spring  in  the 
"  sweet  south  country  "  through  which  you  have  been  pilgrim- 
aging.    I  should  have  liked  to  be  with  you  in  your  voyage  up 


172  ^K  AND  LETTERS  [1854. 

the  Tennessee.  I  begin  to  long  for  a  wild,  unhackneyed  river, 
unimproved  by  cultivation,  and  unburdened  by  commerce. 

To-day  is  my  seventy-first  birthday,  and  opens  with  a 
serene,  sunny,  beautiful  morning.     *     *     * 

I  have  wished  a  thousand  times,  my  dear  Julia,  since  your 
departure,  that  you  were  with  me,  making  your  home  under 
my  roof,  as  you  do  in  my  heart ;  and  I  never  wished  it  more 
strongly  than  at  this  moment.  I  feel  very  much  this  long 
separation,  and  grieve  that  it  is  likely  to  be  so  much  prolonged, 
and  that  you  are  moving  to  farther  and  farther  distances  from 

me.     I  wish  S could  have  some  employment  near  at  hand, 

so  that  you  could  take  up  your  abode  with  me  entirely. 

In  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Irving,  then  on  a  visit  with  me 
to  North  Carolina,  dated  April  6th,  after  giving  some 
account  of  his  dissipations  during  a  week's  sojourn  in 
town,  he  writes : 

Another  of  my  dissipations  was  an  evening  at  the  dancing 
school,  where  I  was  very  much  pleased  and  amused.     I  met 

your  friend  Mrs.  M there,  whom  I  found  very  agreeable, 

and  who  made  me  acquainted  with  her  bright  little  daughter. 
The  scene  brought  my  old  dancing-school  days  back  again,  and 
I  felt  very  much  like  cutting  a  pigeon  wing,  and  showing  the 
young  folks  how  we  all  footed  it  in  days  of  yore,  about  the 
time  that  David  danced  before  the  ark. 

The  next  morning,  where  should  I  breakfast  but  at  Judge 
Duer's  !  It  was  to  meet  Mr.  Lawrence,  the  English  portrait 
painter,  who  has  come  out  with  letters  from  Thackeray,  and  I 
don't  know  who  all,  and  is  painting  all  the  head  people  (some 
of  whom  have  no  heads)  in  town.     It  was  a  very  agreeable 


JEt.71.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  173 

breakfast  party,  three  or  four  gentlemen  besides  Mr.  Lawrence 
and  myself;  but  what  made  it  especially  agreeable,  was  the 

presence  of  two  of  the  Miss .     My  dear  PI I 

was  delighted  with  them — so  bright,  so  easy,  so  ladylike,  so 

intelligent !     IT has  one  of  the  finest,  most  spiritual  faces 

I  have  seen  for  a  long  time.  Why,  in  heaven's  name,  have  I 
not  seen  more  of  these  women  ?  "We  have  very  few  like  them 
in  New  York.  However,  I  see  you  are  beginning  to  laugh, 
so  I  will  say  no  more  on  the  subject. 

In  April,  he  receives  a  note  from  a  neighbor,  in- 
forming him  that  the  Postmaster  General  "  acceded  to 
the  wishes  of  all  the  inhabitants  of  Dearman,  save 
himself,  to  have  the  name  of  Dearman  changed  to 
Irvington."  Dearman  was  the  original  name  of  the 
village  and  railroad  station  a  few  hundred  yards  south 
of  Sunnyside.     It  was  known  thereafter  as  Irvington. 

May  30th,  he  is  "on  a  two-days'  visit  at  the  old 
bachelor  nest  of  his  friend  Mr.  Gouverneur  Kemble,  in 
the  very  heart  of  the  Highlands,  with  magnificent 
scenery  all  around  him  ;  mountains  clothed  with  for- 
ests to  their  very  summit,  and  the  noble  Hudson 
moving  along  quietly  and  majestically  at  their  feet." 

June  16th,  Mr.  Hueston  writes  him  for  a  contribu- 
tion to  the  Knickerbocker  Gallery,  a  complimentary 
tribute  to  Louis  Gaylord  Clark,  for  twenty  years  editor 
of  the  Knickerbocker  Magazine,  and  trusts  he  will  be 
able  to  furnish  it  by  the  1st  of  July.  On  the  21st  of 
the  same  month,  Mrs.  C.  M.  Kirkland  throws  herself 
on  his  gallantry  for  a  ten-line  scrap — the  sweeping  of 


174  LIFE  A5D  LETTERS  [1854. 

his  portfolio — that  might  be  read  aloud  at  a  literary 
and  musical  festival  that  had  been  devised  at  Milwau- 
kie,  as  a  means  to  raise  three  hundred  dollars  toward 
an  institution  for  the  education  of  young  women  at  the 
West.  After  being  read  aloud,  the  article  was  to  be 
sold  to  the  highest  bidder.  Both  requests  were  com- 
plied with,  and  articles  sent. 

June  29th,  he  writes  to  Kennedy,  with  "  a  head 
confused  and  almost  stupefied  with  catarrh  ; "  that  this 
had  "  been  rather  an  unfortunate  season  with  him,  hav- 
ing had  two  returns  of  his  old  complaint,  chills  and 
fever ;  the  last  just  as  he  was  on  the  way  to  attend  a 
wedding  of  a  grand  niece,  at  which  all  the  ten  tribes  of 
the  family  were  assembled." 

In  the  following  letter  we  have  an  account,  among 
other  things,  of  a  visit  to  Idlewild,  the  home  of  iN".  P. 
Willis  : 

[To  Mr.  J.  P.  Kennedy.'] 

Sunntside,  Aug.  31,  1854. 

My  dear  Kennedy  : 

Wherever  this  letter  finds  you,  whether  in  your  tower  on 
the  banks  of  the  Patapsco,  at  your  brother's  in  the  Shenandoah 
Valley,  or  with  that  rare  old  cavalier,  your  uncle  Pendleton,  in 
his  favorite  resort,  the  cool  hollow  of  Berkeley  Springs,  may 
it  find  you  in  the  enjoyment  of  good  health  and  good  spirits. 
****** 

I  am  concerned  to  learn  that  Mr.  Gray's  health  has  been 
feeble  of  late,  and  that  he  has  had  days  of  suffering  and 
"  nights  of  prolonged  nervous  distress."     Your  account  of  his 


JET.71.J  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  175 

firm  presentiment  that  he  was  to  close  his  earthly  career  on  his 
birthday,  the  lGlh  of  last  July,  of  his  business  arrangements 
for  the  event,  and  the  calm  serenity  with  which  he  awaited  it, 
is  really  touching  and  beautiful.  It  only  proved  how  truly 
worthy  he  is  of  length  of  days ;  for  none  is  so  fitted  to  live  as 
he  who  is  well  prepared  to  die.  God  send  him  many  more 
years,  with  a  body  as  free  from  pain  as  his  mind  is  from  evil  or 
his  heart  from  unkindness.  He  has  everything  that  should 
accompany  old  age, 

"  A3  honor,  love,  obedience,  troops  of  friends ; " 

and  he  is  an  instance  how  lovable  old  age  may  render  itself. 

I  lately  made  a  day's  excursion  up  the  Hudson,  in  company 

with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  M G and  two  or  three  others,  to 

visit  Willis  in  his  poetical  retreat  of  Idlewild.  It  is  really  a 
beautiful  place,  the  site  well  chosen,  commanding  noble  and 
romantic  scenery ;  the  house  commodious  and  picturesque,  and 
furnished  with  much  taste.  In  a  word,  it  is  just  such  a  retreat 
as  a  poet  would  desire.  I  never  saw  Willis  to  such  advantage 
as  on  this  occasion.  *  *  *  Willis  talks  and  writes  much 
about  his  ill  health,  and  is  really  troubled  with  an  ugly  cough  ; 
but  I  do  not  think  his  lungs  are  seriously  affected,  and  I  think 
it  likely  he  will  be  like  a  cracked  pitcher,  which  lasts  the  longer 
for  having  a  flaw  in  it,  being  so  much  the  more  taken  care  of. 
****** 

I  have  been  passing  the  summer  entirely  at  home,  deter- 
mined not  to  travel  any  more  in  hot  weather.  I  have  had  no 
return  of  the  chills  and  fever,  that  paid  me  a  slight  visit  early 
in  June,  and  am  now  in  fair  health  for  such  a  green  old  gentle- 
man.    I  wish  I  had  Douce  Davie  here  to  mount  occasionally, 


176  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1854. 

for  Gentleman  Dick  is  in  such  disgrace  that  my  womankind 
will  not  hear  to  my  mounting  him  any  more.  The  last  time  I 
did  so,  he  took  a  start  from  hearing  a  young  horse  in  a  pasture 
galloping  alongside  of  the  fence,  and,  fancying  it  to  be  a  chal- 
lenge to  a  race,  set  off  ventre  a  terre,  and  gave  me  a  run  of 
nearly  three  miles  before  I  could  bring  him  to  a  stop.  Fortu- 
nately, I  had  a  fair  road ;  everybody  and  everything  turned 
aside,  and  made  way  for  me ;  and  Dick  showed  such  speed  and 
bottom,  that  I  am  thinking  of  entering  him  for  the  cup  at  the 
next  races. 

God  bless  you,  my  dear  Kennedy.     Yours  very  faithfully, 

"Washington  Ikving. 

It  was  nine  months  before  he  again  mounted  the 
back  of  Gentleman  Dick ;  and  the  equestrian  mis- 
chance that  then  befell  him,  will  be  told  in  its  place. 
I  introduce,  now,  Mr.  Willis's  account  of  a  conversa- 
tion with  him  about  Moore,  the  poet,  which  took  place 
on  his  late  visit  to  Idlewild  : 

We  chanced  to  be  present,  the  other  day,  when  Washing- 
ton Irving  took  up  the  defence  of  the  memory  of  Tom  Moore. 
So  noteworthy  an  outpouring,  as  it  was,  of  a  generous  and 
genial  nature — properly  eloquent  in  defence  of  the  friend  with 
whom  he  had  exchanged  cordialities,  and  over  whose  grave  he 
would  not,  therefore,  see  an  ill  weed  grow  unplucked — we 
wished,  at  the  time,  that  the  summer  wind  would  play  reporter, 
and  tell  the  whole  world  of  it.  The  subject  was  started  by 
Irving's  being  rallied  on  having  been  such  a  Brummel,  while  in 
London,  as  to  have  served  Moore  for  a  model  in  dress ;   as 


^Et.  71.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  177 

appeared  by  a  passage  in  one  of  his  letters,  giving  directions 
to  his  publisher  to  look  up  Irving's  tailor  to  make  him  a  coat. 

"Ah,"  said  Geoffrey,  with  one  of  his  genial  lightings-up 
of  the  face  still  handsome,  "  that  was  owing  to  the  mere 
chance  of  Moore's  having  been  with  me,  one  morning,  when  I 
went  into  Nugee's.  And  I  have  often  thought  of  it  since,  by 
the  way,  as  a  curious  instance  of  the  bringing  together  of 
opposite  classes  in  England.  We  were  strolling  down  St. 
James  street,  and  Moore  just  stepped  in  with  me  while  I 
ordered  a  coat.  Seeing  that  Nugee  did  not  know  him,  I 
stepped  between  the  two,  and  said,  '  Really,  gentlemen,  two 
such  very  distinguished  men  ought  to  know  each  other !  Mr. 
Nugee,  this  is  Mr.  Thomas  Moore ;  Mr.  Moore,  Mr.  Nugee  !  ' 
Upon  which,  Nugee,  who  was  worth  one  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  pounds  at  least,  came  forward,  bowing  almost  to  the 
ground  in  his  excessive  humility,  and  could  not  find  words 
enough  to  express  his  sense  of  the  honor  of  such  an  introduc- 
tion.* He  was  delighted  with  it,  too,  and  thanked  me  warmly 
for  it  afterward.  '  Good  creature  ! '  he  said  of  Moore  ;  '  good 
creature  !  ' — using  the  pbrase  very  popular  in  London,  at  that 
time,  to  express  great  admiration.  Yes,"  continued  Irving, 
musingly,  "  there  was  that  tailor,  worth  a  magnificent  fortune, 
and  he  would  come  to  your  lodgings  with  the  coat  he  had 
made,  to  try  it  on  !     I  remember  his  flattering  way  of  looking 

*  Irving  thus  provided  a  customer  for  the  tailor.  In  Moore's  Diary- 
occurs  the  following  passage :  "  Nugee  called  with  the  first  sketch  of  my 
coat,  to  try  it  on.  Said  he  would  dress  me  better  than  ever  I  was  dressed 
in  my  life.  '  There's  not  much  of  you,  sir,'  he  said,  '  and  therefore  my 
object  must  be  to  make  the  most  I  can  of  you.'  Quite  a  jewel  of  a  man, 
this  Nugee.  Have  gone  to  him  in  consequence  of  my  former  tailor  being 
bankrupt." 

Vol.  rV.— 8*  (12) 


178  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1854. 

at  me,  and  expressing  his  interest  when  I  called  upon  him,  on 
my  return  from  the  Continent,  to  order  something.  '  Not  look- 
ing quite  so  well,  my  dear  sir  ;  not  quite  so  well !  Take  care 
of  yourself,  dear  Mr.  Irving ;  pray,  take  care  of  yourself ! 
We  can't  spare  you  yet.' 

"  But  they  do  Moore  the  greatest  injustice  in  denying  him 
a  sincere  affection  for  his  wife.  He  really  loved  her,  and  was 
proud  of  her.  I  know  it,"  continued  Irving,  very  emphatic- 
ally. "  When  we  were  in  Paris  together,  I  used  to  go  out 
and  breakfast  with  him ;  and  most  delightful  those  breakfasts 
were.  And  I  remember  being  with  Moore  when  his  friends 
Lord  and  Lady  Holland  had  just  arrived ;  and  Lady  Holland 
told  Tom  they  were  coming  out  the  next  day  to  breakfast,  and 
she  wished  particularly  to  see  little  Bessy.  '  They  shall  have 
the  breakfast,'  said  his  wife,  when  he  told  her,  '  but  they  wont 
see  little  Bessy  !  '  She  said  it  very  archly,  but  with  the  posi- 
tiveness  of  an  habitual  independence,  for  she  would  not  be 
patronized  by  great  folks !  Moore  admired  this,  though  he 
used  to  say  it  was  quite  beyond  what  he  was  capable  of  him- 
self. Bat  she  did  yield  to  him  occasionally,  and  go  out  with 
him  to  parties — once,  particularly,  exciting  her  husband's  great- 
est admiration  by  the  way  her  quiet  and  self-possessed  manner 

completely  baffled  the   condescension   of  Lady   L .     Her 

ladyship  had  intended  to  be  excessively  cordial ;  but  the  simple 
way  in  which  '  little  Bessy '  took  it  as  a  matter  of  course, 
turned  the  balance  of  dignity  altogether.  Moore  spoke  of  it 
delightedly  afterward.  Oh,  they  have  cruelly  misrepresented 
that  man  !  He  was  an  honorable,  highminded  fellow,  and,  in 
some  trying  money  matters  particularly,  he  showed  the  great- 
est disinterestedness  and  liberality.  He  has  been  shamefully 
wronged  since  his  death." 


JEt.  71.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  179 

Thus  vindicatorily  of  his  friend  spoke  the  just  and  kind 
Geoffrey  Crayon  a  day  or  two  since ;  and  we  are  glad  to  re- 
cord it  while  the  dark  wing  of  the  poet's  renown  is  uppermost. 
For,  says  Milton, 

"  Fame  has  two  wings — one  black,  the  other  white  ; 
She  waves  them  both  in  her  unequal  flight." 

To  Mrs.  Kennedy  he  writes,  from  Sunnyside,  Au- 
gust 31st : 

****** 

You  ask  me  whether  the  homoeopathies  still  keep  me  quite 
well.  I  really  begin  to  have  great  faith  in  them.  The  com- 
plaint of  the  head  especially,  which  troubled  me  last  year,  and 
obliged  me  to  throw  by  my  pen,  has  been  completely  van- 
quished by  them,  so  that  I  have  fagged  with  it  as  closely  as 
ever.     *     *     * 

My  nephew,  P.  M.  I.,  is  about  to  build  a  cottage  in  my 
immediate  vicinity,  I  having  given  him  a  site  for  the  purpose — 
one  of  my  fields,  which  lies  on  the  south  side  of  the  lane  lead- 
ing down  to  my  dwelling. 

[To  John  P.  Kennedy.] 

Sunnyside,  Oct.  5, 1854. 

My  dear  Kennedy  : 

Your  letter  has  remained  too  long  unanswered  ;  but  I  find 
it  impossible  to  be  regular  and  prompt  in  correspondence, 
though  with  the  best  intentions  and  constant  efforts  to  that 
effect.  I  condole  with  you  sincerely  on  the  loss  of  your 
mother,  for,  from  my  own  experience,  it  is  one  of  the  losses 
which  sink  deepest  in  the  heart.  It  is  upward  of  thirty  years 
since  I  lost  mine,  then  at  an  advanced  age ;  yet  I  dream  of 


180  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1854. 

her  to  this  day,  and  wake  up  with  tears  on  my  cheeks.  I 
think  the  advanced  age  at  which  she  died  endears  her  memory 
to  me,  and  gives  more  tenderness  and  sadness  to  the  recollec- 
tion of  her.  Yet,  after  all,  a  calm  and  painless  death,  closing 
a  long  and  well-spent  life,  is  not  a  thing  in  itself  to  be  lament- 
ed ;  and,  from  your  own  account,  your  mother's  life  was  happy 
to  the  end ;  for  she  was,  you  say,  "  well  conditioned  in  mind 
and  body,"  and  one  of  her  last  employments  was  to  perform 
for  her  grandchildren  on  the  piano.  *  *  *  "What  a  bless- 
ing it  is  to  have  this  feeling  for  music,  which  attended  your 
mother  to  the  last !  It  is  indeed  a  sweetener  of  life,  and  a 
fountain  of  youth  for  old  age  to  bathe  in  and  refresh  itself. 

[To  Mr.  J.  P.  Kennedy.] 

Sunntside,  Nov.  22, 1854. 

My  dear  Kennedy  : 

Your  last  letter  was  in  cheerful  contrast  to  those  which  pre- 
ceded it.  I  had  heard,  in  a  circuitous  way,  of  Mrs.  Ken- 
nedy's illness,  and  was  about  to  write  to  you  on  the  subject, 
when  I  received  from  you  the  intelligence  that  she  had  routed 
the  enemy ;  was  "  gathering  strength  with  her  accustomed 
energy  of  action ; "  walked,  rode,  and  ate  with  a  determination 
to  be  as  well  as  ever ;  and  that  you  hope  she  would  even  be 
better  than  ever.  I  rejoice  in  your  bulletin,  and  trust  that  she 
and  her  allies,  the  doctor  and  quinine,  will  be  more  prompt  and 
complete  in  their  triumph  than  the  allied  powers  in  the  Crimea, 
with  whom  you  have  compared  them. 

I  am  glad  to  find,  also,  that  Mr.  Gray  continues  to  falsify 
his  predictions,  and  to  grow  fat  and  hearty  in  spite  of  himself. 
I  trust  nature  will  continue  to  make  him  a  false  prophet  in  this 
respect ;  she  is  very  apt  to  surprise  valetudinarians  with  a  latent 


^Et.  71.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  181 

fund  of  longevity  of  which  they  had  no  conception.  I  think, 
if  he  were  to  take  a  jaunt  to  New  York,  and  hear  Grisi  and 
Mario  through  their  principal  characters,  it  would  be  like  a  dip 
in  the  fountain  of  youth  to  him. 

I  have  had  some  delicious  treats  since  their  arrival  in  New 
York.  I  think  Grisi's  singing  and  acting  would  be  just  to  Mr. 
Gray's  taste.  There  is  a  freshness  and  beauty  about  her,  in 
voice  and  person,  that  seem  to  bid  defiance  to  time.  I  wish 
Mr.  Gray  could  see  her  in  Semiramide,  and  in  Rosina  (Barber 
of  Seville),  which  exhibit  her  powers  in  the  grand  and  the 
comic.  I  had  always  seen  her  in  the  former,  and  considered 
her  a  magnificent  being.  It  was  only  lately,  on  my  last  visit 
to  town,  that  I  saw  her  in  comedy,  when  she  played  Rosina 
twice,  and  surprised  me  by  the  truthfulness  with  which  she 
could  assume  the  girl,  and  the  unforced  whim  and  humor  with 
which  she  could  illustrate  all  her  caprices.  But,  to  perceive 
her  thorough  excellence  in  this  part,  one  must  be  able  to  dis- 
cern every  play  of  her  countenance,  and  especially  of  her  eye. 
Her  acting,  like  all  great  achievements  of  art,  is  worthy  of 
especial  examination.  It  is  a  perfect  study.  Like  all  great 
achievements  of  art,  it  is  delightful  from  its  simplicity. 

The  Semiramide  and  the  Barber  of  Seville,  as  now  per- 
formed in  New  York,  are  worthy  of  a  winter's  journey  from 
Baltimore. 

Just  before  I  left  town,  there  was  a  semi-centennial  anni- 
versary of  the  New  York  Historical  Society.  Indeed,  I 
stayed  in  town  to  be  present  at  it ;  but,  when  the  time  arrived, 
my  incorrigible  propensity  to  flinch  from  all  public  ceremonials 
and  festivals  came  over  me.  I  mingled  in  the  crowd,  and 
heard  Bancroft's  erudite  address  from  the  "  auditorium,"  but 
kept  clear  of  the  banquet  which  took  place  afterward.    Among 


182  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1854. 

the  dignitaries  and  invited  guests  on  the  stage,  I  saw  our  friend 
"Winthrop,  who,  I  find  by  the  papers,  made  an  eloquent  speech 
at  the  banquet.  This  I  regret  not  to  have  heard.  I  have 
never  heard  him  speak  in  public,  but  have  heard  much  of  his 
talent  for  public  speaking ;  and  I  think,  from  what  I  have  seen 
of  him,  he  would  be  apt  to  acquit  himself  well  and  grace- 
fully.    *     *     * 

"With    affectionate    remembrances    to    Mr.    G ,    Miss 

G ,  and  your  (much)  better  half, 

Yours,  my  dear  Kennedy,  very  truly, 

Washington  Irving. 

[  To  Mrs.  Storrow,  at  Pan's.] 

Sttnnyside,  Nov.  23, 1854. 

My  dear  Sarah  : 

Your  last  letter  has  taken  me  over  many  scenes  of  former 
travel,  and  brought  up  delightful  recollections.  Switzerland, 
the  Rhine,  and  the  southern  parts  of  Germany  bordering  on 
the  Tyrol,  with  the  quaint  old  towns  and  cities,  Baden-Baden, 
Strasburg,  Ulm,  Augsburg,  Salzburg,  &c,  &c.  Did  you,  when 
at  Baden-Baden,  visit  those  awful  chambers,  or  dungeons, 
under  the  old  castle,  one  of  the  seats  of  the  "  Vehm  Gericht," 
or  Secret  Tribunal — that  mysterious  and  tremendous  associa- 
tion that  once  held  such  sway  over  Germany  ?  I  do  not  know 
whether  they  are  generally  shown  to  strangers ;  but,  having 
read  a  great  deal  on  the  subject  of  that  secret  institution,  I 
sought  them  out,  and  visited  them  with  thrilling  interest.  You 
say  you  found  my  name  written  in  the  visitors'  book  at  Augs- 
burg, thirty-two  years  since.  Had  there  been  a  visitors'  book 
at  Zurich  of  sufficiently  ancient  date,  you  might  have  met  my 
name  written  there  forty -nine  years  since,  as  I  made  a  visit  to 


-St.  72.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  183 

it  in  1805,  in  the  course  of  my  first  European  tour;  and  well 
do  I  recollect  how  much  I  was  charmed  with  it,  and  how  will- 
ingly I  would  have  lingered  there. 

You  do  not  say  whether,  Avhen  at  Salzburg,  you  visited 
the  famous  salt  mine,  and  made  a  subterranean  excursion.  I 
presume  you  did  not,  as  you  would  have  found  it  rather 
"  awsome,"  as  the  Scotch  say,  though  I  was  very  much  inter- 
ested by  it.  Salzburg  and  its  vicinity  struck  me  as  a  very 
region  for  legendary  romance.  I  presume  you  recollect  the 
Untersburg,  or  "Wanderburg,  a  few  miles  from  Salzburg ; 
within  which,  according  to  popular  tale,  the  Emperor  Charles 
sits  in  state,  with  golden  crown  on  his  head  and  sceptre  in  his 
hand.  In  the  interior  of  the  same  mountain  are  palaces  and 
churches  and  convents  and  gardens  and  untold  treasures, 
guarded  by  dwarfs,  who  sometimes  wander,  at  midnight,  into 
Salzburg,  to  say  their  prayers  in  the  cathedral.  No  doubt 
Kate  lias  come  across  all  this  in  the  course  of  her  German 
studies,  and  was  able  to  put  you  on  the  track  of  these  won- 
ders. Before  the  breaking  out  of  any  war,  the  Emperor 
Charles  issues  out  of  the  mountain  with  all  his  array,  and 
marches  round  it  with  great  blast  and  bray  of  trumpet,  and 
then  returns  into  his  subterranean  palace.  I  wish  you  could 
have  seen  a  procession  of  the  kind.  It  would  have  surpassed 
all  the  state  of  the  mongrel  emperors  and  empresses  in  whom 
you  delight. 

****** 

Give  my  love  to  the  princesses,  who,  I  understand,  are 
growing  in  grace  as  in  years.  You  are  devoting  vourself  to 
their  education.  Do  not  attempt  to  make  remarkable  women 
of  them.  Let  them  acquire  those  accomplishments  which  en- 
liven and  sweeten  home,  but  do  not  seek  to  fit  them  to  shine  in 


184  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1854. 

fashionable  society.  Keep  them  as  natural,  simple,  and  unpre- 
tending as  possible  ;  cultivate  in  them  noble  and  elevated  sen- 
timents, and,  above  all,  the  feeling  of  veneration,  so  apt  to  be 
deadened,  if  not  lost,  in  the  gay,  sensuous  world  by  which 
they  are  surrounded.  They  live  in  the  midst  of  spectacle ; 
everything  around  them  is  addressed  to  the  senses.  The  soci- 
ety with  which  they  mingle  is  all  of  a  transient  kind — travel- 
ling Americans,  restless  seekers  after  novelty  and  excitement. 
All  this  you  must  bear  in  mind,  and  counteract  as  much  as 
possible,  by  nurturing  home  feelings  and  affections,  habits  of 
thought  and  quiet  devotion,  and  a  reverence  for  grand  and 
noble  and  solemn  and  sacred  things. 

Give  my  kindest  remembrances  to  your  husband,  and  be- 
lieve me,  my  dear  Sarah,  ever  your  affectionate  uncle, 

Washington  Irving. 


Mr.  72.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  185 


CHAPTEK    XI. 

A  NEW-YEAR  SALUTATION* — PUBLICATION  OP  WOLFERT's  IIOOST— EXTRACTS  FROM 
SCME  OF  THE  NOTICES — ANECDOTE  HESPECTING  MOUNTJOT — PUBLICATION  OF 
VOL.  I  OF  THE  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON — AN  EQUESTRIAN  OVERTHROW — LETTER 
TO  JOHN-  P.  KENNEDY — LETTER  FROM  BANCROFT  ON  RECEIPT  OF  VOL.  I  OP 
LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON — DETERMINES  TO  COMPLETE  THE  WORK — PASSAGE  FROM 
LETTER  TO  MRS.  STORROW — IMPATIENT  TO  GET  VOL.  II  READY  FOR  THE 
TRESS — REPLY  TO  INVITATION  FROM  MOSES  THOMAS — LETTER  TO  JAMES  K. 
PAULDING. 

npHE  new  year  finds  Mr.  Irving  again  at  Cassilis* 
-*-  in  the  valley  of  the  Shenandoah,  where  he  had 
gone  to  attend  a  wedding  of  a  niece  of  Mr.  Kennedy. 
A  letter  to  one  of  the  inmates  of  his  little  home,  dated 
January  1st,  opens  with  this  characteristic  salutation 
from  the  country  seat  where  the  nuptials  were  to  be 
celebrated :  "  My  dear  Kate,  a  happy  New  Year  to 
you,  and  all  the  family.  So  there,  I've  caught  you 
all." 

There  was  generally  a  strife,  at  Sunnyside,  who 
should  be  first  to  bid  "  Happy  New  Year." 

Soon  after  his  return,  the  volume  entitled  "  ¥ol- 
fert's  Roost  "  was  issued  from  the  press.  This  work 
derives  its  title  from  what  was  the  first  name  given  by 
the  author  to  his  residence  of  Sunnyside — the  Roost 


186  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1855. 

(or  Rest)  of  "Wolfert  Acker,  "  one  of  the  privy  council- 
lors of  the  renowned  Peter  Stuyvesant,"  who  retreated 
to  this  "  quiet  and  sheltered  nook  "  after  the  subjuga- 
tion of  New  Amsterdam  by  the  English.  The  opening 
piece  of  the  volume,  consisting  of  three  chronicles, 
gives  a  humorous  description  of  "  the  little  old-fash- 
ioned stone  mansion,  all  made  up  of  gable  ends,  and 
as  full  of  angles  and  corners  as  an  old  cocked  hat ; " 
and  recounts  the  remarkable  inhabitants  it  has  had  at 
various  periods  of  history  ;  and  how  it  came  to  be  the 
keep  or  stronghold  of  Jacob  Yan  Tassel,  a  valiant 
Dutchman,  during  the  dark  and  troublous  times  of  the 
Revolutionary  war ;  and  how,  finally,  the  eventful 
little  pile  was  selected  for  the  haunt  or  sojourning  of 
Diedrich  Knickerbocker. 

The  reader,  familiar  with  the  letter  to  the  editor  of 
the  Knickerbocker,  with  which  the  series  of  articles 
contributed  by  Mr.  Irving  to  that  magazine  began, 
will  detect  in  these  opening  chronicles  a  striking  simi- 
larity to  parts  of  that  communication,  upon  which 
these  quaint  and  amusing  legends  have  evidently  been 
remodelled.  The  rest  of  the  volume  is  but  a  collection 
of  tales  and  sketches  long  before  published  in  that 
periodical,  with  the  exception  of  "  The  Creole  Til- 
lage," "The  Widow's  Ordeal,"  and  "A  Contented 
Man,"  which  were  given  originally  in  annuals.  The 
work  appeared  early  in  February,  and  proved,  no 
doubt,  to  the  majority  of  its  readers,  a  new  publica- 
tion ;  to  the  young  particularly,  who  could  hardly  have 


JK.72.1.  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  187 

been  familiar  with  the  contents  of  any  of  the  papers  of 
which  it  is  composed.  The  volume  was  greeted  in  the 
highest  terms  by  the  press  and  the  public  on  both  sides 
of  the  Atlantic.  "  It  would  not  be  easy  to  overpraise 
this  American  miscellany,"  is  the  commencement  of 
some  favorable  comments  of  the  London  Athenaeum. 
"  There  is  as  much  elegance  of  diction,  as  graceful  a 
description  of  natural  scenery,  as  grotesque  an  earnest- 
ness in  diablerie,  and  as  quiet  but  as  telling  a  satiric 
humor,  as  when  Geoffrey  Crayon  first  came  before  the 
English  world,  nearly  forty  years  ago,"  says  the  Lon- 
don Spectator.  "  This  volume,"  writes  a  critic  in  the 
columns  of  the  New  York  Courier  and  Enquirer, 
"  will  be  almost  equally  welcome  to  those  who  have 
and  those  who  have  not  read  the  papers  of  which  it  is 
composed.  *  *  *  It  was  well  to  collect  these  scat- 
tered waifs  of  his  genius  while  he  himself  was  by  to 
superintend  the  labor.  *  *  *  He  has  given  to  the 
world  few  productions  more  charming  than  '  Wolfert's 
Eoost'  and  the  <  Sketches  in  Paris  in  1825.'  " 

The  Evening  Post  cites  the  second  paper  on  the 
Birds  of  Spring  as  "  a  special  favorite."  "  It  is  the 
one  which  relates  the  history  of  the  boblink,  or  bob- 
o'lincoln,  from  his  first  appearance  as  a  gay  warbler  in 
the  fields  of  the  Northern  States,  through  his  various 
changes  ;  becoming  a  reed  bird  in  the  marshes  border- 
ing the  rivers  of  the  Middle  States,  and  finally  a  rice 
bird  at  the  South,  where  he  degenerates  into  a  fat 
epicure,  and  is  shot  for  the  table.     The  rest  of  the 


188  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1855. 

sketches  and  narratives,"  it  adds,  "  have  all  the  charac- 
teristics of  Irving's  graceful  genius,  and  are  worthy  to 
be  placed  by  the  side  of  his  '  Sketch  Book,'  composed 
long  years  since." 

A  notice  in  the  Boston  Telegraph  says :  "  We  think 
it  superior  to  any  of  his  previous  works  in  one  respect 
— that  of  wide  range  and  variety.  There  is  some 
one  or  more  papers  in  the  new  volume,  which  bring  to 
mind  each  of  the  author's  former  works.  It  seems  as 
if,  when  he  published  his  previous  imaginative  works, 
he  had  laid  aside  one  or  more  papers  from  each  of 
them,  and  that  here  they  were.  Thus  there  are  Span- 
ish and  Moorish  legends,  which  remind  us  of  the 
'  Alhambra  '  and  the  '  Conquest  of  Granada  ; '  Dutch 
stories,  reminding  one  of  portions  of  the  '  Sketch 
Book,'  '  Tales  of  a  Traveller,'  and  of  the  '  History  of 
New  York.'  It  is,  in  fact,  a  volume  which  contains 
'  representative '  papers  of  all  his  former  works." 

Of  the  varied  effusions  of  this  compilation,  a  great 
favorite  with  many  was  the  unfinished  narrative  of 
"  Mountjoy ;  or,  Some  Passages  out  of  the  Life  of  a 
Castle  Builder."  This  first  appeared  in  the  Knicker- 
hocker  in  1839,  but  it  was  written  in  England  prior  to 
the  publication  of  the  first  number  of  the  Sketch  Book, 
in  1819.  He  read  it  to  Leslie  when  the  artist  was  in  a 
tired  mood,  and,  receiving  from  him  little  encourage- 
ment to  proceed,  threw  it  aside,  and' never  touched  it 
again.  It  was  in  vain  that  Leslie  tried  afterward  to 
put  him  in  heart  about  it.     He  was  effectually  discour- 


Mi.  72.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING  189 

aged.  I  have  little  doubt  that  Ogilvie  was  shadowed 
forth  in  this  piece  under  the  character  of  Glencoe,  as 
he  afterward  sat  to  Leslie  for  the  portrait  of  Don 
Quixote.  , 

The  publication  of  the  first  volume  of  the  Life  of 
Washington  soon  succeeded  the  appearance  of  "  Wol- ' 
fert's  Koost."  In  regard  to  the  size  and  form  of  this 
long-expected  biography,  it  had  been  his  intention  to 
publish  it  only  in  the  octavo  form ;  but  it  was  so  de- 
cidedly the  judgment  of  his  publisher  that  the  duo- 
decimo form  would  be  the  most  in  demand,  from  being 
uniform  with  his  other  works,  that  a  sort  of  compro- 
mise was  effected,  by  which  it  was  to  appear  in  both 
forms  together.  To  enforce  the  propriety  of  his  views 
in  favor  of  the  duodecimo  edition,  his  publisher  writes 
him,  January  11th,  at  Sunnyside,  where  he  had  now 
returned :  "  You  are  aware  we  printed  an  edition  of 
Columbus  in  octavo,  to  range  with  Prescott's  Works ; 
but  of  these  we  have  never  sold  but  two  hundred  and 
fifty  copies ;  while  about  eleven  thousand  have  been 
sold  of  the  duodecimo." 

The  author,  at  the  age  of  seventy-two,  had  just  got 
through  correcting  the  proofs  of  the  first  volume,  when 
he  met  with  his  second  accident  from  his  horse  Dick, 
to  which  allusion  was  made  in  a  previous  chapter.  He 
had  not  mounted  him  since  his  former  accident ;  but 
on  this  day,  April  18th,  1855,  a  favorite  young  lady 
friend  calling  at  the  house  on  horseback,  he  could  not 
resist  the  temptation  to  try  him  once  again,  and  accom- 


190  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1855. 

pany  her  on  a  short  ride.  His  "  womankind,"  as  he 
styled  his  nieces,  sought  to  dissuade  him,  but  he  was 
not  to  be  overruled.  He  had  gone  but  about  two  hun- 
dred yards  on  the  main  road,  when  the  animal  became 
so  restless  that  he  was  induced  to  turn  about,  and, 
leaving  his  companion  at  the  head  of  the  lane,  retrace 
his  steps  alone  toward  home,  resolving  within  himself, 
as  he  told  me,  never  to  get  astride  of  Master  Dick 
again.  This  purpose  was  hardly  formed,  before  the 
unquiet  beast  suddenly  became  ungovernable,  and, 
starting  off  at  full  speed,  rushed  madly  down  the  hill. 
His  rider  tried  the  curb  in  vain.  He  did  not  heed  it ; 
and,  continuing  his  frantic  pace  through  the  cottage 
gate,  tore  his  way  into  an  evergreen  that  overhung  the 
road,  and,  stumbling,  fell  himself,  and  threw  his  rider 
with  violence  to  the  ground,  about  a  hundred  feet  from 
his  own  door.  Luckily,  no  limbs  were  broken,  but  his 
head  received  a  severe  bruise,  and  his  chest  was  sorely 
wrenched  by  the  violence  of  the  overthrow,  so  that  for 
two  days  he  could  not  be  moved  in  bed  without  great 
pain,  and  could  not  rise  up  or  turn  without  assistance. 
This  was  about  the  eighth  or  ninth  escape  he  had  had 
from  somewhat  similar  accidents  on  horseback  or  in 
carriage  since  he  built  the  cottage. 

His  physician,  Dr.  John  C.  Peters,  of  New  York, 
who  was  immediately  sent  for,  on  coming  in,  asked  him 
how  he  felt.  The  reply  was  ludicrously  expressive : 
"  I  feel  as  if  an  attempt  had  been  made  to  force  my 
head   down  into   my  chest,   as   you  shut   up   a   spy- 


wEt.  72.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  191 

glass."  To  an  inquiry  of  one  of  his  nieces  how  he 
felt  now,  after  his  position  had  been  changed  in  bed, 
though  he  was  still  in  great  pain,  "  First  rate,"  was 
the  reply,  making  the  motion  as  if  touching  his  hat, 
and  showing  that  he  had  in  mind  the  answer  of  a. 
poor  starving  soldier  to  Lieutenant  Strain,  when  his 
party  was  perishing  for  food,  and  he  was  asked  by 
his  officer  how  he  was.  Lieutenant  Strain  had  shortly 
before  been  at  the  cottage,  and  told  the  touching  anec- 
dote. The  next  day  he  was  somewhat  less  helpless, 
and,  though  he  could  not  rise  up  or  turn  directly,  yet, 
"  by  a  good  deal  of  circumlocution,"  as  he  oddly  ex- 
pressed it,  he  was  able  to  move  himself.  Llis  humor 
never  seemed  to  desert  him,  even  in  his  most  painful 
moments. 

On  the  third  day,  though  still  feeling  "  somewhat 
battered  and  bruised,"  he  got  up  very  unexpectedly, 
and  dressed  and  shaved  himself;  and,  a  day  or  two 
after,  wrote  the  following  reply  to  an  inquiry  of  Ken- 
nedy about  the  accident : 

[To  John  P.  Kennedy.] 

Sunntside,   April  23, 1855. 

My  dear  Kennedy  : 

The  telegraphic  report  was,  as  usual,  exaggerated.  I  have 
been  thrown  from  my  horse,  but  not  as  dangerously  hurt  as 
reported.  Thanks  to  a  hard  head  and  strong  chest,  I  have 
withstood  a  shock  that  would  have  staved  in  a  sensitively  con- 
structed man.  My  head  was  pretty  well  battered,  and  came 
nigh  being  forced  down  into  my  chest,  like  the  end  of  a  tele- 


192  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1855. 

scope ;  and  my  chest  is  still  so  wrenched  and  sore,  that  I  am 
like  one  suffering  with  the  asthma.  But  I  have  left  my  bed, 
and  am  on  my  legs  again.  It's  all  the  doings  of  that  rascal, 
Gentleman  Dick,  who,  knowing  my  fondness  for  him,  has 
played  me  all  kinds  of  tricks.  This  is  the  second  time  he  has 
fairly  run  away  with  me,  but  at  least  the  tenth  time  he  has 
attempted  it.  The  first  time  I  kept  my  seat,  but  this  time  he 
was  determined  I  should  not ;  so  he  ran  me  among  trees,  and 
we  both  came  down  together.  I  have  cut  him  off  with  a 
shilling. 

The  worst  result  of  the  accident  (he  writes  to  a  niece  who 
had  expressed  great  concern  about  it  from  abroad)  was,  that  I 
had  to  sell  my  favorite  saddle  horse,  Gentleman  Dick,  or  there 
would  have  been  no  peace  in  the  household,  the  "  womenkind  " 
were  so  clamorous  against  the  poor  animal.  Poor  Dick  !  His 
character  was  very  much  misunderstood  by  all  but  myself. 
He  was  one  of  the  gentlest,  finest  tempered  animals  in  the 
world.  But  a  scamp  of  a  coachman  had  played  tricks  with 
him,  and  made  him  so  timid,  that  he  was  apt  to  get  into  a 
panic,  when  suddenly  he  would  take  the  bit. between  his  teeth, 
and  trust  to  his  heels  for  safety.  I  am  now  looking  out  for  a 
quiet,  sober,  old-gentlemanlike  horse,  if  such  a  thing  is  to  be 
met  with  in  this  very  young  country,  where  everything  is  so 
prone  to  go  ahead. 

May  20th,  1855,  Mr.  Irving  writes  to  me :  "  I  en- 
close a  letter,  just  received  from  Murray,  which  I  will 
thank  you  to  hand  to  Mr.  Putnam.  You  will  see  that 
some  negligence  or  omission  in  forwarding  advance 
sheets  to  London  may  mar  my  interests  in  that  qnar- 


JEt.  72.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  193 

ter.  But  no  matter.  If  my  work  be  well  received  by 
the  public,  I  shall  be  content,  whatever  be  the  pecu- 
niary profits." 

The  letter  from  Murray  informed  him  that  he  had 
placed  the  advance  sheets  of  "  Washington "  in  the 
hands  of  Bohn,  on  "  a  promise  of  £50,  and  a  hope  of 
something  more  if  he  could  keep  the  field  to  himself; 
but  added  that  there  was  risk  of  perfect  copies  coming 
over  from  America  before  Bohn  could  complete  his 
edition,  in  consequence  of  there  being  some  pages 
missing  from  the  proof  sheets  sent  over.  "  It  is  quite 
absurd,"  he  says,  "  to  think  of  sending  sheets  of  a 
book  otherwise  than  in  duplicate  sets." 

If  there  were  demand  for  a  large  edition,  he  would 
print  one  himself,  in  conformity  with  the  terms  of  his 
last  letter ;  "  but,"  he  writes,  "  I  fear  the  publication 
in  volume  will  be  fatal  to  a  large  edition.  The  pros- 
pects of  literature  seen  athwart  the  war  are  not  en- 
couraging, and  I  am  disposed,  consequently,  to  publish 
as  little  as  possible." 

This  volume  treats  of  the  earlier  part  of  Washing- 
ton's career  previous  to  the  Eevolution,  ending  with 
his  arrival  at  the  camp  before  Boston  as  Commander- 
in-Chief. 

Mr.  Irving,  as  usual,  had  been  a  good  deal  de- 
pressed about  the  work,  and  had  avoided  looking  over 
it  since  its  publication  ;  but  the  following  cordial  letter 
from  Bancroft  helped  to  put  him  more  in  conceit  of  it, 
and   made  him    hope  that   the   Life   of  "Washington 

Vol.  |V.— 0  (13) 


194  UFE  AND  LETTERS  [1855. 

would  not  be  the  death  of  him,  as  he  sometimes  used 
to  say  he  feared  it  would. 

Wednesday,  May  30, 1855. 

Deae  Irving  : 

Your  volume,  of  which  I  gained  a  copy  last  night,  and 
this  morning  have  received  one  made  still  more  precious  by 
your  own  hand,  shortened  my  sleep  last  night  at  both  ends.  I 
was  up  late  and  early,  and  could  not  rest  until  I  had  finished 
the  last  page.  Candor,  good  judgment  that  knows  no  bias,  the 
felicity  of  selection,  these  are  yours  in  common  with  the  best 
historians.  But,  in  addition,  you  have  the  peculiarity  of 
writing  from  the  heart,  enchaining  sympathy  as  well  as  com- 
manding confidence ;  the  happy  magic  that  makes  scenes, 
events,  and  personal  anecdotes  present  themselves  to  you  at 
your  bidding,  and  fall  into  their  natural  places,  and  take  color 
and  warmth  from  your  own  nature.  The  style,  too,  is  mas- 
terly, clear,  easy,  and  graceful ;  picturesque  without  manner- 
ism, and  ornamented  without  losing  simplicity.  Among  men 
of  letters,  who  do  well,  you  must  above  all  take  the  name  of 
Felix,  which  so  few  of  the  great  Roman  generals  could  claim. 
You  do  everything  rightly,  as  if  by  grace ;  and  I  am  in  no 
fear  of  offending  your  modesty,  for  I  think  you  were  elected 
and  foreordained  to  excel  your  contemporaries. 
~*   Ever,  dear  Irving,  most  truly  yours, 

George  Bancroft. 

The  letter  of  the  distinguished  historian  was  soon 
followed  by  other  notices  and  letters,  which  conspired 
to  relieve  the  sort  of  nightmare  solicitude  he  had  felt 
about  the  work,  and  determined  him  to  complete  it. 


At.  72.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  195 

He  had  before  wellnigh  given  up  the  idea  of  carry- 
ing it  any  farther  than  the  inauguration  of  "Washing- 
ton as  President,  the  history  of  the  Administration 
admitting  of  so  little  personal  or  picturesque  detail 
that  he  feared  he  could  give  it  no  interest. «  He  lost  his 
indifference,  however,  about  the  completion  of  the 
Life,  with  the  success  of  the  first  volume,  and  now 
determined,  at  whatever  expense  of  labor,  to  go 
through  with  the  whole. 

The  following  close  of  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Storrow, 
dated  June  27th,  1855,  gives,  in  his  own  characteristic 
vein,  a  picture  of  a  summer  evening  at  Sunnyside  : 

*  *  *  I  am  writing  late  at  night,  as  I  have  to  go  to 
town  on  business  in  the  morning.  It  is  a  beautiful  moonlight 
night,  and  I  have  been  kept  up  late  by  the  young  folk ;  having 

two  of   P.  P.   I 's  daughters  with  me — Hatty  and  sweet 

little  Nelly ;    and    they  have  been  with  the  young  G s, 

cruising  by  moonlight  on  the  Tappan  Sea,  in  a  beautiful  yacht 

which  G has  recently  bought.     It  puts  me  in  mind  of  the 

water  parties  in  former  days,  in  the  Dream,  with  the  H s, 

B s,  &c,  when  the  old  chorus  used  to  be  chanted : 

"  We  won't  go  home  till  morning, 
Till  daylight  doth  appear." 

It  is  a  different  yacht  and  a  different  generation  that  have 
taken  up  the  game,  and  are  now  sailing  by  moonlight  and  sing- 
ing about  the  Tappan  Sea.     So  rolls  the  world. 

In  September,  Mr.  Irving  was  all  impatience  to  get 
his   second   volume  of  "  Washington "   ready  for  the 


196  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1855. 

press.  "  I  live  only  in  the  Revolution,"  said  he  to  me. 
"  I  have  no  other  existence  now — can  think  of  nothing 
else.  My  desire  is  to  give  everything  vividly,  but  to 
avoid  all  melodramatic  effect.  I  wish  the  incidents  to 
be  brought  out  strongly,  and  speak  for  themselves ; 
but  no  hubbub  of  language,  no  trickery  of  phrase, 
nothing  wrought  up." 

He  had  made  great  additions  to  the  "  Life  "  since  I 
had  read  it  before.  I  spoke  with  admiration  of  his 
narrative  of  the  battle  of  Princeton.  "  It  is  very  diffi- 
cult," said  he,  "  to  give  a  clear  account  of  a  battle: 
Bancroft  told  me  he  was  bothered  about  his  battles, 
but  Prescott  likes  them.  I  study  it  thoroughly,  to 
seize  the  strong  point,  then  dip  my  brush  in  the  paint, 
and  color  up  for  that." 

September  27th. — I  accompanied  him  to  the  com- 
plimentary festival  to  authors  and  booksellers  at  the 
Crystal  Palace.  A  carriage  was  sent  for  him  to  "No, 
33  Lafayette  Place,  where  he  was  staying.     "We  got  in, 

and  were  to  call  for  Bishop  ,  at  No. 

street.  When  we  got  near,  I  asked  Mr.  Irving  if 
he  knew  the  Bishop.  "No.  Don't  you?"  "No." 
"  "Well,  then,  let's  get  out.     It  will  be  very  awkward 

to  be  in  the  carriage  with  him."      P 's  lad,  who 

accompanied  the  carriage  on  the  driver's  seat,  expostu- 
lated.    "  Mr.  P had  sent  him  expressly  with  the 

carriage.     "Would  not  like  it."     "  But  I  must  get  out." 

"  But  Mr.  P "     "  Never  mind  Mr.  P .     I  want 

to  have  my  way,  not  his."     So  down  we  got,  and 


/Et.  72.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  197 

walked  from  Twentieth  street  to  the  Crystal  Palace, 
entering  on  Fortieth  street.  Mr.  Irving  could  not 
endure  the  thing,  as  he  drew  near,  but,  after  he  got 
in,  spent  a  pleasant  evening.  Was  especially  delighted 
at  meeting  Moses  Thomas,  his  old  bookseller,  now  a 
prosperous  auctioneer  in  Philadelphia. 

October  5t/t. — I  was  reading  with  Mr.  Irving,  in 
his  study,  the  proof  of  some  of  the  early  pages  of 
his  second  volume  of  "  Washington,"  which  had  gone 
to  the  press  about  a  week  before.  He  was,  at  the 
same  time,  engaged  in  retouching  and  adding  to  the 
battle  of  White  Plains ;  was  desirous,  he  said,  to  ex- 
hibit the  Revolution  in  its  motley  character,  and  give 
the  play  of  human  nature  throughout. 

Some  days  after,  I  drove  over  to  Chattcrton  Hill 
with  him,  to  visit  the  battle  ground,  he  taking 
his  manuscript  account  of  it  with  him.  While  en- 
gaged in  the  survey,  an  old  man,  on  a  mealy-mouthed 
horse  with  white  eyebrows,  came  up,  and,  informing 
us  that  he  was  the  owner  of  the  property,  asked  if  we 
did  not  wish  to  buy  it ;  he  was  too  old  to  take  care 
of  it.  Mr.  Irving  told  him  he  was  too  old  to  buy 
it.  On  our  way.  down,  met  a  bright'eyed  lad  about 
six  or  seven  years  of  age.  "  Stop — stop  a  moment," 
said  he ;  "  let  me  see  what  money  I  have,"  pull- 
ing out  his  purse.  "  I  must  buy  those  e5'es.  My 
little  fellow,  what  will  you  take  for  those  eyes  ?  "  The 
little  fellow  stood  aghast  with  amazement.  "  Well," 
said  he,  "  here's  sixpence  for  you,  at  any  rate." 


198  'LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1855. 

The  anecdote  is  of  a  piece  with  that  related  by  Mr. 
Davis,  of  the  lad  at  Saratoga,  and,  though  trivial, 
serves  to  illustrate  his  peculiar  fancy  for  drolling  with 
and  mystifying  children. 

November  \Zth. — I  went  up  to  the  cottage,  to  return 
the  next  day.  Found  Mr.  Irving  correcting  proof  of 
second  volume  of  "  Washington."  Yery  glad  of  my 
visit.  Had  recast  and  improved  the  chapter  about 
Lee's  tardy  movements  to  join  Washington.  Spoke 
of  the  raciness  of  Lee's  character  historically.  "A 
game  flavor  about  it,"  he  said.  Made  a  less  flowing 
narrative,  by  giving  the  extracts  from  letters,  and 
dates,  but  gave  strength  and  accuracy  to  the  detail. 
The  character  of  Washington  grew  upon  him  con- 
stantly. Gave  me  the  first  chapters  of  the  third  vol- 
ume to  read.  Was  determined  to  push  on  with  that 
the  moment  he  finished  the  second. 

November  21s;!. — Mr.  Irving  had  been  some  days  in 
the  city,  preparing  the  last  chapters  of  the  second  vol- 
ume of  "  Washington  "  for  the  press.  Was  busy  on 
the  last  chapter  but  one  when  I  called,  soon  after 
breakfast.  Had  been  reading,  in  a  morning  paper,  a 
report  of  the  address  of  the  Hev.  Dr.  De  Witt,  the 
night  previous,  before  the  Historical  Society,  in  which 
there  was  a  touching  allusion  to  his  Life  of  Washing- 
ton, followed  by  loud  cheers,  and  to  himself,  as  "  one 
whose  modesty  was  only  increased  by  the  weight  of 
public  commendation."  "  I  do  not  know,"  said  he, 
adverting  to  it,  "  when  anything  has  gratified  me  so 


jEt.  72. J  OP  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  199 

much  as  this  mention  of  me  by  old  Dr.  De  Witt.  I 
must  write  to  him,  and  express  to  him  what  I  feel." 

I  called  again  in  the  evening,  and  asked  him  if  he 
had  added  to  the  close  of  the  second  volume,  as  he  had 
thought  of  doing  in  the  morning.  "  No ;  I  was  too 
weary.  Oh  !  I  shall  be  so  glad  to  throw  off  the  har- 
ness, and  take  a  roll  on  the  grass." 

At  the  moment  of  completing  his  second  volume, 
he  received  from  Mr.  Charles  L.  Brace  some  manu- 
script Hessian  journals,  which  had  been  copied  for  the 
Historical  Society,  and  which  led  him  to  recal  and 
revise  some  of  his  proofs,  and  make  some  additions  and 
alterations. 

The  following  letter  to  his  early  Philadelphia  pub- 
lisher, Moses  Thomas,  was  in  reply  to  an  invitation  to 
attend  a  literary  dinner  in  that  city,  and  a  request  that 
he  would  make  his  home  at  his  house  on  the  occasion  : 

[7b  Moses  Thomas.] 

Sunntside,  Dec.  15,  1855. 

My  dear  Thomas  : 

I  thank  you  heartily  for  your  kind  and  hospitable  invitation 
to  your  house,  which  I  should  be  glad  to  accept  did  I  propose 
attending  the  Godey  Complimentary  Dinner ;  but  the  annoy- 
ance I  suffer  at  dinners  of  the  kind,  in  having  to  attempt 
speeches,  or  bear  compliments  in  silence,  has  made  me  abjure 
them  altogether.  The  Publishers'  Festival,  at  which  I  had  the 
great  pleasure  of  meeting  you,  was  an  exception  to  my  rule, 
but  only  made  on  condition  that  I  would  not  be  molested,  by 
extra  civilities. 


200  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1855. 

I  regret  that  on  that  occasion  we  were  separated  from  each 
other,  and  could  not  sit  together  and  talk  over  old  times. 
However,  I  trust  we  shall  have  a  future  opportunity  of  so 
doing.  I  wish,  when  you  visit  New  York,  you  would  take  a 
run  up  to  Sunnyside.  The  cars  set  you  down  within  ten  min- 
utes' walk  of  my  house,  where  my  "  womenkind  "  will  receive 
you  (figuratively  speaking)  with  open  arms  ;  and  my  dogs  will 
not  dare  to  bark  at  you. 

Yours  ever,  very  truly, 

"Washington  Irving. 

To  the  same  Moses  Thomas  he  wrote,  from  Liver- 
pool, March  3d,  1818,  prior  to  the  appearance  of  the 
Sketch  Book,  when  he  was  just  getting  himself  into 
habits  of  study  and  literary  life,  from  which  he  had 
been  so  long  divorced  : 

I  notice  what  you  say  on  the  subject  of  getting  up  an  origi- 
nal work  ;  but  I  am  very  squeamish  on  that  point.  "Whatever 
my  literary  reputation  may  be  worth,  it  is  very  dear  to  me, 
and  I  cannot  bring  myself  to  risk  it  by  making  up  books  for 
mere  profit. 

The  following  is  addressed  to  his  old  friend  and 
literary  compeer,  at  his  residence  on  the  east  bank  of 
the  Hudson,  about  eight  miles  above  Poughkeepsie, 
where  he  had  been  living  since  his  retirement  from 
public  life,  as  Secretary  of  the  Navy,  in  1841.  In  this 
picturesque  seclusion,  which  he  had  left  to  visit  the 
city  but  once  since  it  became  his  abode,  he  resumed  his 
literary  activity ;    and  here  the  veteran   author,  the 


^It.  72.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  201 

senior  of  Mr.  Irving  by  more  than  four  and  a  half 
years,  gave  to  the  press  two  novels,  "  The  Old  Conti- 
nental," in  1846,  and  "The  Puritan's  Daughter,"  in 
1850,  at  the  ripe  age  of  seventy-two.  At  the  date  of 
his  application  to  Mr.  Irving  for  his  autograph,  to  be 
presented  to  a  peerless  beauty,  he  had  passed  his 
seventy-seventh  year — a  circumstance  to  be  borne  in 
mind  in  reading  the  reply  : 

[ To  James  K.  Paulding.] 

Sunntside,  Dec.  24, 1855. 

My  dear  Paulding  : 

I  enclose  an  autograph  for  the  "  paragon  of  a  young  lady," 
whose  beauty  you  extol  'beyond  the  stars.  It  is  a  good  sign 
that  your  heart  is  yet  so  inflammable. 

I  am  glad  to  receive  such  good  accounts  as  you  give  of 
yourself  and  your  brother,  "jogging  on  together  in  good 
humor  with  each  other  and  with  the  world."  Happy  is  he 
who  can  grow  smooth  as  an  old  shilling  as  he  wears  out ;  he 
has  endured  the  rubs  of  life  to  some  purpose. 

You  hope  I  am  "  sliding  smoothly  down  the  hill."  I  thank 
you  for  the  hope.  I  am  better  off  than  most  old  bachelors  are, 
or  deserve  to  be.  I  have  a  happy  home ;  the  happier  for 
being  always  well  stocked  with  womenkind,  without  whom  an 
old  bachelor  is  a  forlorn,  dreary  animal.  My  brother,  the 
"  General,"  is  wearing  out  the  serene  evening  of  life  with  me  ; 
almost  entirely  deaf,  but  in  good  health  and  good  spirits,  more 
and  more  immersed  in  the  study  of  newspapers  (with  which  I 
keep  him  copiously  supplied),  and,  through  them,  better  ac- 
quainted with  what  is  going  on  in  the  world  than  I  am,  who 
Vol.  TV.— 9* 


202  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  P855. 

mingle  with  it  occasionally,   and  have  ears  as  well  as  eyes 
open.     *     *     * 

I  have  had  many  vivid  enjoyments  in  the  course  of  my  life, 
yet  no  portion  of  it  has  been  more  equably  and  serenely  happy 
than  that  which  I  have  passed  in  my  little  nest  in  the  country. 
I  am  just  near  enough  to  town  to  dip  into  it  occasionally  for  a 
day  or  two,  give  my  mind  an  airing,  keep  my  notions  a  little 
up  to  the  fashion  of  the  times,  and  then  return  to  my  quiet 
little  home  with  redoubled  relish. 

I  have  now  my  house  full  for  the  Christmas  holidays,  which 
I  trust  you  also  keep  up  in  the  good  old  style.  "Wishing  a 
merry  Christmas  and  a  happy  New  Year  to  you  and  yours,  I 
remain,  my  dear  Paulding,  yours  ever,  very  truly, 

"Washington  Irving. 


J2t.72.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  203 


CHAPTEK    XII. 


PUBLICATION  OF  VOL.  II  OP  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON — LETTER  FROM  PRESCOTT — 
LETTER  TO  HENRT  T.  TUCKERMAN — LETTER  OF  CHARLES  L.  BRACE  ON  VOL.  II 
— LETTER  TO  BANCROFT — LETTER  TO  JOHN  P.  KENNEDY — LETTER  TO  GOUVER- 
NEUR  KEMBLE— PUBLICATION  OF  VOL.  III. 


rj^HE  second  volume  of  the  Life  of  Washington, 
-*-  which  brings  the  history  down  from  the  period 
of  his  taking  command  of  the  army — a  year  before 
the  Declaration  of  Independence — to  the  close  of  the 
successful  campaign  in  New  Jersey,  in  January,  1777, 
was  issued  in  December,  1S55. 

The  following  letter  from  Prescott,  who  had  just 
received  a  copy,  will  be  read  with  interest.  In  the 
opening  paragraph,  the  distinguished  historian  alludes 
to  a  complimentary  letter  from  Mr.  Irving  on  his 
Philip  the  Second.  Henry  Brevoort,  so  touchingly 
referred  to  at  the  close,  had  been  dead  some  years. 

[From  W.  H.  Prescott.'] 

Boston,  Jan.  3,  1S56. 

My  dear  Friend  : 

Since  the  publication  of  Philip  the  Second,  I  may  truly  say 
nothing  has  given  me  greater  pleasure  than  your  kind  note, 


204:  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1855. 

and  the  cordial  manner  in  which  you  speak  of  my  labors. 
Ever  since  I  have  been  old  enough  to  distinguish  good  from 
evil  in  literary  composition,  your  writings  have  been  my 
familiar  study.  And  if  I  have  done  anything  that  deserves 
half  the  commendation  you  bestow  on  me,  it  is  in  a  great, 
measure  from  the  study  I  have  made  of  you,  and  two  or  three 
others  of  the  great  masters  of  our  language.  Every  one  who 
knows  me,  knows  that  this  is  true.  You  may  understand, 
then,  how  well  I  am  pleased  to  obtain  your  unsolicited  ap- 
proval. 

I  have  been  gladdened  by  the  sight  of  the  second  volume 
of  your  great  work,  which  came  to  us  a  few  days  since.  You 
are  a  good  deal  quicker  on  the  trigger  than  I  can  be.  You 
must  have  had  a  quantity  of  the  material  already  potted  down 
for  posterity.  It  is  very  tantalizing  to  the  reader,  this  fashion 
of  publishing  by  instalments  of  a  volume  or  two  at  a  time,  and 
people  complain  if  they  are  not  turned  out  as  rapidly  as 
romances.  Macaulay  used  to  tell  the  story  of  a  young  lady  of 
his  acquaintance,  whom  he  met  the  week  after  his  first  two 
volumes  appeared,  who  said  to  him :  "  I  have  just  finished 
your  volumes,  Mr.  Macaulay,  and  now  we  are  all  ready  for 
another  two  !  " 

You  have  done  with  "Washington  just  as  I  thought  you 
would,  and,  instead  of  a  cold,  marble  statue  of  a  demigod,  you 
have  made  him  a  being  of  flesh  and  blood,  like  ourselves — one 
with  whom  we  can  have  sympathy.  The  general  sentiment  of 
the  country  has  been  too  decidedly  expressed  for  you  to  doubt 
for  a  moment  that  this  is  the  portrait  of  him  which  is  to  hold 
a  permanent  place  in  the  national  gallery. 

What  naturally  was  of  especial  interest  to  me  in  your  first 
volume,  was  that  pons  asinorum,  over  which  so  many  have 


JEr.  72.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  205 

stumbled — the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill*  You  have  gone  over 
it  in  a  way  which  must  satisfy  the  most  captious  critic.  The 
silly  question  as  to  the  command,  has  been  a  much  vexed  ques- 
tion in  New  England,  as  you  are  aware.  I  don't  know 
whether  you  ever  heard  of  the  amusing  fact  of  three  folio 
volumes  of  affidavits  of  survivors  having  been  taken  by  the 
late  William  Sullivan,  bearing  particularly  on  that  matter.  At 
his  death,  they  were  presented  by  his  brother,  Richard  Sulli- 
van, to  the  Massachusetts  Historical  Society.  A  committee 
was  appointed  by  that  body  to  examine  their  contents,  and  to 
report  respecting  them.  The  report  was,  that  the  testimony 
was  so  contradictory  in  its  nature,  that  it  would  rather  perplex 
than  enlighten  the  historian ;  and  the  volumes  were  returned 
to  Mr.  Sullivan.  A  good  commentary,  this,  on  the  value  of 
even  contemporary  evidence. 

But  your  kind  note  should  not  bring  down  such  an  ava- 
lanche on  your  head.  Its  date  from  Sunnyside  reminds  me  of 
the  pleasant  day  I  passed  in  company  with  your  early  friend 
Brevoort,  and  mine  of  later  years.  It  is  long  since  I  made  a 
visit  to  New  York ;  and  when  I  have  had  occasion  to  pass  a 
day  there,  the  forms  of  those  who  used  to  greet  me  kindly, 
and  who  have  gone  forever,  are  sure  to  come  up  before  my 
eye. 

May  you  be  among  the  number  of  those  who  are  spared, 
and  long  spared,  dear  Mr.  Irving,  to  delight  the  world  by  your 
writings,  and  enjoy  the  love  and  gratitude  of  your  countrymen. 

Believe  me,  always,  very  truly  and  affectionately,  yours, 

¥m.  H.  Prescott. 

*  It  had  been  a  moot  point,  in  New  England,  whether  General  Putnam 
or  Colonel  "William  Prescott,  the  grandfather  of  the  historian,  bad  the 
chief  command  at  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill. 


206  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [185G. 

The  battle  of  Bunker  Hill,  of  which  Prescott  re- 
lates his  amusing  anecdote,  is  given  near  the  close  of 
the  first  volume.  The  second  volume  carries  the  nar- 
rative down  to  the  victories  of  Trenton  and  Princeton. 

To  a  Yery  kind  letter  from  Mr.  Tuckerman,  soon 
after  the  publication  of  his  second  volume,  he  sends  the 
following  reply,  giving  some  insight  into  his  own  views 
and  plan  in  the  treatment  of  his  theme  : 

[Tc  Mr.  II.   T.   Tuckerman.] 

Sttnjjyside,  Jan.  8, 1856. 

My  dear  Me.  Tuckerman  : 

I  thank  you  most  heartily  for  your  letter,  which,  I  frankly 
assure  you,  was  very  seasonable  and  acceptable,  being  the  first 
intimation  I  had  received  of  the  fortune  of  the  volume  I  had 
launched  upon  the  world.  It  was  very  considerate  and 
obliging  in  you  to  seek  to  relieve  me  from  the  suspense  of 
"  waiting  for  a  verdict ; "  which,  with  me,  is  apt  to  be  a  time 
of  painful  doubt  and  self-distrust.  You  have  discovered  what 
I  aimed  at,  "  the  careful  avoidance  of  rhetoric,  the  calm,  pa- 
tient, and  faithful  narrative  of  facts."  My  great  labor  has 
been  to  arrange  these  facts  in  the  most  lucid  order,  and  place 
them  in  the  most  favorable  light,  without  exaggeration  or  em- 
bellishment, trusting  to  their  own  characteristic  value  for  effect. 
Rhetoric  does  very  well  under  the  saddle,  but  is  not  to  be 
trusted  in  harness,  being  apt  to  pull  facts  out  of  place  and 
upset  them.  My  horse,  Gentleman  Dick,  was  very  rhetorical, 
and  showed  off  finely ;  but  he  was  apt  to  run  away  with  me, 
and  came  near  breaking  my  neck. 

I  have  availed  myself  of  the  license  of  biography,  to  step 
down   occasionally   from   the   elevated   walk   of  history,   and 


JEt.12.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  207 

relate  familiar  things  in  a  familiar  way ;  seeking  to  show  the 
prevalent  passions  and  feelings  and  humors  of  the  day,  and 
even  to  depict  the  heroes  of  Seventy-six  as  they  really  were — 
men  in  cocked  hats,  regimental  coats,  and  breeches ;  and  not 
classic  warriors,  in  shining  armor  and  flowing  mantles,  with 
brows  bound  with  laurel,  and  truncheons  in  their  hands.  But 
enough  of  all  this.  I  have  committed  myself  to  the  stream, 
and,  right  or  wrong,  must  swim  on  or  sink.  The  latter  I  Avill 
not  do,  if  I  find  the  public  sustain  me. 

The  work,  as  I  am  writing  it,  will  inevitably  overrun  three 
volumes.  I  had  supposed,  originally,  that  it  would  not,  though 
I  did  not  intend  that  number  should  be  specified  in  the  title 
page.  It  was  specified  by  my  publisher,  who  will  put  an 
author's  incidental  surmises  into  print,  and  make  positive  prom- 
ises of  them. 

Should  I  have  occasion  to  avail  myself  of  the  papers  you 
so  kindly  put  at  my  disposition,  concerning  Gouverneur  Mor- 
ris, Early  American  Society,  &c,  I  shall  have  no  hesitation  in 
applying  to  you  for  them.  In  the  mean  time,  let  me  repeat 
how  very  sensibly  I  feel  the  generous  interest  you  have  mani- 
fested in  my  literary  success  on  the  present  occasion. 

Yours,  very  truly, 

"Washington  Irving. 

C.  L.  Brace,  author  of  various  interesting  works, 
writes,  January  22d,  of  the  second  volume  : 

My  dear  Mr.  Irving  : 

I  do  not  see  why  one  should  not  acknowledge  a  pleasure, 
when  one  has  so  enjoyed  it ;  and  I  want  to  say  how  intensely 
interesting  your  second  volume  of  "  "Washington  "  is.     I  have 


208  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1856. 

read  it  as  I  would  read  a  romance.  To  me  it  is  history  alive. 
I  enter  into  the  feelings  and  struggle  and  uncertainties  of  the 
actors,  so  that  I  feel,  as  it  were,  doubtful  of  the  issue.  *  *  * 
"Washington  looms  out  grandly  in  this  volume  ;  much  more  so 
than  in  the  first,  naturally.  It  is  the  most  living  picture  we 
have  ever  had  of  him,  and  shows,  best  of  all,  the  incessant 
difficulties  of  his  work.  It  is  strange,  too,  how  you  have  made 
those  battles  real.  I  have  read  them  often,  and  never  had  any 
clear  idea  at  all  of  them ;  now  they  are  indissolubly  associated 
with  the  places.  You  have  again  made  the  Hudson  classic 
ground.  I  predict  without  a  doubt  that  this  will  be  the  "Wash- 
ington of  the  people — especially  of  the  young  people.  As  a 
boy,  I  should  read  it  like  Kobinson  Crusoe  or  Captain  Cook's 
Voyages. 

To  a  letter  from  Bancroft,  congratulating  him  on 
the  success  of  his  second  volume,  he  replies  : 

My  dear  Bancroft  : 

I  thank  you  sincerely  for  your  cordial  and  well-timed  note. 
It  is  always  an  anxious  time  with  an  author  when  he  has  just 
launched  a  volume,  and  is  waiting  for  a  verdict ;  and  especially 
with  one  like  myself,  apt  to  be  troubled  with  self-distrust.  I 
never  was  more  troubled  with  it  than  in  the  prosecution  of  my 
present  task,  when  I  am  occasionally  venturing,  in  a  somewhat 
familiar  way,  upon  themes  which  you  will  treat  in  such  an 
ampler,  nobler,  and  more  truly  historical  style.  Indeed,  I  am 
putting  to  sea  at  a  hazardous  time,  when  you  and  Macaulay 
and  Prescott  (with  his  grand  Spanish  Armada)  are  afloat. 
However,  I  am  ready  to  drop  my  peak  whenever  any  of  you 
come  into  the  same  waters. 


JEt.  72.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  209 

Give  my  best  thanks  to  Mrs.  Bancroft  for  her  favorable 
opinion  of  my  volume.  As  Sir  Fretful  Plagiary  says,  the 
women  are  the  best  judges,  after  all. 

Ever,  my  dear  Bancroft,  yours  most  heartily, 

"Washington  Irving. 


February  23d,  1856. — I  returned  to  the  city  from  a 
visit  of  ten  days  at  the  cottage.  Mr.  Irving  was  busy 
at  the  third  volume  of  "Washington,"  which  was 
going  through  the  press.  About  one  hundred  pages 
were  printed  when  I  came  down.  He  had  been  recon- 
structing the  narrative  of  Burgoyne's  expedition,  and 
the  affair  of  Schuyler  and  Gates.  His  head  troubled 
him  occasionally,  and  he  seemed  to  feel  the  pressure  of 
such  a  task  at  his  time  of  life.  Rewrote  three  or  four 
pages  after  he  had  got  the  proof;  viz.,  Signs  of  an 
Approaching  Enemy  at  Ticonderoga.  Seemed  to  feel, 
at  times,  an  uneasy  consciousness  that  he  might  not 
get  through  with  his  labor.  "  I  am  constantly  afraid," 
he  said  to  me  the  morning  I  came  down,  "  that  some- 
thing will  happen  to  me,"  alluding  to  his  head.  Never 
saw  him  so  impatient  at  the  encroaching  demands  of 
letters  upon  his  valuable  time.  "  Oh  !  these  letters — 
these  letters !  They  tear  my  mind  from  me  in  slips 
and  ribbons." 

He   had   received,   the  day  before  (Washington's 

birthday),  from  his  publisher,  the  present  of  a  new 

table  for  his  study.     It  had  a  good  many  drawers,  and 

sundry  novel  conveniences,  the  use  of  which  he  did  not 

Vol.  IV.— (14) 


210  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1856. 

readily  comprehend.  "  You  will  be  bothered  with 
your  very  conveniences,"  said  I.  "  Yes.  I  must  get 
everything  in  a  mess,  and  then  I'll  go  on  comfortably." 
The  letter  which  follows,  is  in  reply  to  one  from 
Mr.  Kennedy,  announcing  the  death  of  his  wife's 
father,  Mr.  Edward  Gray  : 

[To  Mr.  J.  P.  Kennedy.] 

Scnntside,  March  22,  1S56. 

My  dear  Kennedy  : 

The  sight  of  your  letter,  just  received,  with  its  black  seal 
and  edgings,  gave  me  a  severe  shock,  though  I  thought  I  was 
prepared  for  the  event  it  communicated.  The  death  of  my 
most  dear  and  valued  friend,  Mr.  Gray,  is  a  relief  to  himself, 
and  to  the  affectionate  hearts  around  him  who  witnessed  his 
prolonged  sufferings ;  but  I,  who  have  been  out  of  the  hearing 
of  his  groans,  can  only  remember  him  as  he  was  in  his  genial 
moments,  the  generous  and  kind-hearted  centre  of  a  loving 
circle,  dispensing  happiness  around  him. 

My  intimacy  with  him,  in  recent  years,  had  fully  opened  to 
me  the  varied  excellence  of  his  character,  and  most  heartily 
attached  me  to  him.  My  dear  Kennedy,  my  intercourse  with 
your  family  connection  has  been  a  great  sweetener  of  the  last 
few  years  of  my  existence,  and  the  only  attraction  that  has 
been  able  to  draw  me  repeatedly  from  home.  And  in  all  this 
I  recognize  the  influence  of  the  kind,  cordial,  sympathetic 
character  of  Mr.  Gray.  To  be  under  his  roof,  in  Baltimore  or 
at  Ellicott's  Mills,  was  to  be  in  a  constant  state  of  quiet  enjoy- 
ment to  me.  Everything  that  I  saw  in  him,  and  in  those 
about  him  ;  in  his  tastes,  habits,  mode  of  life ;  in  his  domestic 
relations  and  chosen  intimacies,  continually  struck  upon  some 


Mt.  73.1  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  211 

happy  chord  in  my  own  bosom,  and  put  me  in  tune  with  tho 
world  and  with  human  nature.  I  cannot  expect,  in  my  brief 
remnant  of  existence,  to  replace  such  a  friend,  and  such  a  do- 
mestic circle  rallying  round  him  ;  but  the  remembrance  will 
ever  be  most  dear  to  me. 

Give  my  most  affectionate  remembrance  to  your  wife  and 
her  noble-hearted  sister,  and  believe  me,   my  dear  Kennedy, 
Ever  yours,  most  truly, 

"Washington  Irving. 

A  few  weeks  before  the  date  of  the  following  letter, 
Mr.  Irving  had  written  to  Gouverneur  Kemble  that  his 
gardener  had  been  constructing  a  hothouse,  and  pre- 
paring a  piece  of  ground,  sheltered  by  a  fence,  where 
he  expected  to  effect  great  things  ;  and  tliat,  if  he  had 
any  cuttings  or  plants  of  grapes  and  figs  to  spare,  and 
could  send  them  to  him  by  railroad,  he  would  make  his 
gardener  very  happy  : 

[7b  Gouverneur  Kemble.'] 

Scnntside,  April  23, 1S56. 

My  dear  Kemble  : 

The  roots  and  cuttings  sent  by  your  gardener  arrived  safe, 
and  are  all.  properly  disposed  of.  I  should  like  to  have  a  few 
more  cuttings  for  out  of  doors,  and  a  black  Hamburg  or  two, 
if  you  have  any.  I  shall  raise  some  of  the  grapes  under  glass, 
having  a  small  hothouse  which  will  accommodate  a  few.  I 
hope  your  visit  to  Washington  was  pleasant  and  profitable,  and 
that  you  will  be  favored  with  a  seat  in  the  Cabinet,  or  a 
foreign  mission  in  this  or  the  next  Presidency. 

I  am  happy  to  learn  that  your  lawn  is  green.     I  hope  it 


212  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1856. 

will  long  continue  so,  and  yourself  likewise.     I  shall  come  up, 
one  of  these  days,  and  have  a  roll  on  it  with  you. 
Yours  ever,  my  dear  Kemble, 

Washington  Irving. 

April  24th,  1856,  lie  writes  to  his  niece,  at  Paris, 
"  at  a  late  hour  of  the  night,  after  a  hard  day's  work  " : 

I  have  about  two  thirds  of  my  third  volume  of  "  Washing- 
ton "  in  type,  and  shall  be  heartily  glad  when  the  whole  vol- 
ume is  completed ;  when  I  will  give  myself  repose  before  I 
commence  another.  It  is  a  toilsome  task,  though  a  very  inter- 
esting, and,  I  may  say,  delightful  one.  It  expands  and  grows 
more  voluminous  as  I  write,  but  the  way  it  is  received  by  the 
public  cheers  me  on ;  for  I  put  it  to  the  press  with  more  doubt 
and  diffidence  than  any  work  I  ever  published.  The  way  the 
public  keep  on  with  me  is  a  continual  wonderment  to  me, 
knowing  my  own  shortcomings  in  many  things ;  and  I  must 
say  I  am  sometimes  surprised  at  my  own  capacity  for  labor  at 
my  advanced  time  of  life — when  I  used  to  think  a  man  must 
be  good  for  nothing. 

The  third  volume,  embracing  the  period  from  the 
commencement  of  the  year  1777  to  the  retirement  of 
Washington  into  winter  quarters  in  1779,  appeared  in 
July,  1856. 


■aiT.73.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  213 


CHAPTEE    XIII. 


A  RECURRENCE  TO  THE  DRESDEN  EPISODE  —  INTERPOLATION  OP  THE  ENGLISH 
EDITION  OF  THE  THIRD  VOLUME  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  —  LETTER  FROM 
MRS.  EMILT  FULLER  TO  WASHINGTON  IRVING — REPLY — LETTER  FROM  DICK- 
ENS—LETTER TO   MRS.    STORROW. 


T3  EFORE  I  proceed  to  introduce  the  letters  -which 
"*— *  are  to  follow,  I  must  invite  the  reader  to  travel 
back  with  me  to  the  little  episode  in  Mr.  Irving's  life, 
his  intercourse  with  the  Fosters,  at  Dresden.  From 
motives  of  delicacy,  I  had  imposed  on  myself  a  reserve 
as  to  some  particulars  of  that  intimate  companionship  ; 
and,  as  no  mention  had  been  made  of  it  among  the  let- 
ters and  extracts  which  Mrs.  Fuller  had  been  kind 
enough  to  furnish  me,  I  had  hesitated  to  betray  my 
consciousness  that  the  imperfect  memorial  of  his  early 
life,  found  in  his  secret  drawer  after  his  death,  was 
addressed  to  Mrs.  Foster.  Of  this  I  had  undoubted 
evidence,  as  well  from  other  circumstances  as  from  the 
names  of  Emily  and  Flora  appearing  in  the  manu- 
script. From  an  entry  in  Mr.  Irving's  diary,  while  at 
Prague,  in  June,  1823,  mentioning  the  writing  and 
sending  to  Mrs.  Foster,  from  that  city,  a  letter  "  giving 


214  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1856. 

anecdotes  of  self,"  I  had  surmised  that  the  faded 
manuscript,  so  long  preserved,  was  a  transcript  from 
that  letter.  I  now  learn,  from  the  journal  of  Mrs. 
Flora  Dawson,  which  has  strangely  enough  made  its 
appearance  in  the  English  edition  of  the  third  volume 
of  my  biography,  that  I  erred  in  this  conjecture,  and 
that  the  written  sheets  were  brought  to  the  family  by 
Mr.  Irving  himself,  at  Dresden,  and  left  for  their  peru- 
sal, under  a  sacred  promise  that  the  manuscript  should 
be  returned  to  him  ;  that  no  copy  should  be  taken,  and 
that  no  eyes  but  theirs  should  ever  rest  upon  it — a 
promise,  adds  the  same  authority,  faithfully  kept. 

From  this,  I  perceive  that  the  sheets  in  my  posses- 
sion, instead  of  being  a  transcript  from  a  letter,  as  I 
had  supposed,  are  part  of  the  original  manuscript,  here 
mentioned  as  having  been  left  and  reclaimed. 

In  the  first  volume  of  my  work,  I  had  already  in- 
troduced some  affecting  passages  from  this  memorial, 
bearing  upon  the  history  of  his  early  attachment,  and 
had  supposed  that  I  had  given  all  that  would  be  of 
interest  to  the  general  reader  ;  but  as  the  London  pub- 
lisher of  the  biography,  to  whom  the  advanced  sheets 
were  sent,  has  taken  the  surprising  liberty  of  intro- 
ducing two  whole  chapters,  making  seventy-nine  addi- 
tional pages,  at  the  end  of  the  third  volume,  without 
my  knowledge  or  consent,  giving  some  further  particu- 
lars of  the  author's  life  at  Dresden,  I  feel  it  necessary 
again  to  recur  to  the  subject.  This  new  matter,  to 
which  the  bookseller  has  resorted  as  a  device  to  obtain 


JEt.78.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  215 

a  copyright,  consists  mainly  of  the  journals  of  Mrs. 
Fuller  and  Mrs.  Dawson,  the  Emily  and  Flora  of  those 
days.  "While  there  is  much  that  is  of  interest  in  their 
record  of  those  "  pleasant  days,"  as  Mr.  Irving  calls 
them  in  a  letter  which  is  to  follow — the  last  he  ever 
wrote  to  the  family — there  are  some  things  in  the  jour- 
nal of  Mrs.  Dawson  a  little  calculated,  though  no 
doubt  unintentionally,  to  mislead,  or  rather  to  be  mis- 
understood. 

A  notice  of  the  English  edition  of  my  work,  which 
met  my  eye  in  a  London  periodical  before  I  had 
been  able  to  see  the  English  copy,  or  had  any  intima- 
tion of  the  nature  of  the  additions  intruded  upon  it, 
mentioned,  to  my  surprise,  that  Mr.  Irving  had  aspired 
to  the  hand  of  Miss  Emily  Foster,  at  Dresden,  and  met 
with  a  "  friendly  but  decided  rejection  of  his  ad- 
dresses." On  receiving  the  English  copy,  I  find  that 
Mrs.  Dawson  makes  no  positive  assertion  of  the  kind  ; 
but,  while  she  claims  for  her  sister,  from  Mr.  Irving,  a 
degree  of  devotion  amounting  to  "  a  hopeless  and  con- 
suming attachment,"  she  goes  on  to  say  :  "  It  was  for- 
tunate, perhaps,  that  this  affection  was  returned  by  the 
warmest  friendship  only — (the  italics  are  her  own) — 
since  it  was  destined  that  the  accomplishment  of  his 
wishes  was  impossible,  for  many  obstacles  which  lay  in 
his  way." 

"While  I  am  not  disposed  to  question,  for  a  moment, 
the  warmth  or  sincerity  of  his  admiration  for  the  lady, 
that  he  ever  thought  of  matrimony  at  this  time  is 


£16  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1856. 

utterly  disproved  by  a  passage  of  the  very  manuscript 
to  which  the  sister  refers,  as  addressed  to  her  mother, 
and  of  which  she  errs  in  supposing  that  I  had  in 
possession  only  the  first  and  last  sheets.  A  more  care- 
ful reference  to  the  first  volume  of  the  biography,  will 
show  her  that  only  the  first  and  last  sheets  were  miss- 
ing, and  that  there  remained  sixteen  consecutive  pages. 
In  that  manuscript,  after  recounting  the  progress  and 
catastrophe  of  his  early  love,  forever  hallowed  to  his 
memory,  and  glancing  at  other  particulars  of  his  life, 
with  which  the  reader  has  already  been  made  familiar, 
all  given  with  the  frankness  and  unreserve  of  perfect 
confidence,  he  closes,  by  saying  : 

You  wonder  why  I  am  not  married.  I  have  shown  you 
why  I  was  not  long  since.  When  I  had  sufficiently  recovered 
from  that  loss,  I  became  involved  in  ruin.  It  was  not  for  a 
man  broken  down  in  the  world,  to  drag  down  any  woman  to 
his  paltry  circumstances.  I  was  too  proud  to  tolerate  the  idea 
of  ever  mending  my  circumstances  by  matrimony.  My  time 
has  now  gone  by ;  and  I  have  growing  claims  upon  my 
thoughts  and  upon  my  means,  slender  and  precarious  as  they 
are.  I  feel  as  if  I  had  already  a  family  to  think  and  pro- 
vide for. 

The  reader  will  perceive  from  this  passage,  ad- 
dressed to  Mrs.  Foster,  at  Dresden,  after  months  of 
intimate  friendship,  what  color  there  is  for  the  assertion 
that  Mr.  Irving  ever  made  advances  for  the  hand  of 
Miss  Emily  Foster,  however  great  or  undisguised  may 


Mt.  73.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  217 

have  been  his  admiration  for  her.  That  the  "  -warmest 
friendship  "  existed  between  them,  is  fully  shown  from 
the  tone  of  the  letters  which  follow,  written  thirty- 
three  years  after  their  sojourn  at  Dresden.  Their  last 
meeting,  alluded  to  in  the  letter,  which  I  now  lay 
before  the  reader,  was  in  London,  in  1832,  shortly 
before  his  return  to  America,  alter  his  prolonged  ab- 
sence of  seventeen  years. 

[From  Mrs.  Emily  Fuller  to  Washington  Irving."] 

May  25, 1856. 

My  dear  Mr.  Irving  : 

I  think  I  ought  to  begin  by  telling  you  who  is  writing  to 
you — Emily  Foster,  now  Emily  Fuller ;  and  I  address  you, 
after  so  long  a  time,  because  I  hope  that  my  eldest  boy  Henry 
may  have  the  happiness  and  advantage  of  meeting  you,  and 
making  your  acquaintance  personally,  as  he  has  long  ago  by 
hearsay.  I  have  been  renewing  former  days.  I  have  lately 
been  reading  over  my  old  Dresden  journal,  where  you  are  a 
part  of  our  daily  life,  and  feel  it  all  over  again  so  completely,  I 
cannot  believe  all  the  time  since  has  really  passed.  Then,  too, 
in  the  course  of  last  winter,  we  were  all  living  with  you  in 
the  Alhambra.  "We  were  reading  it  out  loud  in  the  evenings, 
and  the  sunshine  and  moonlight  and  fountains  and  Lindaraxa's 
garden  became  almost  more  real  than  the  real  fire  and  winter 
evenings.  "We  also  read  the  Sketch  Book  and  Bracebridge 
Hall,  and  I  really  thought  they  came  upon  me  more  fresh  and 
more  delightful  than  even  the  first  time  I  read  them — the 
touclung  expressions,  and  the  arch,  pretty  humor — I  could  see 
you,  your  own  self,  as  we  read,  and  your  very  smile.  How  I 
Vol.  IV.— 10 


218  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1356. 

should  like  to  hear  from  you,  dear  Mr.  Irving !  I  married 
soon  after  we  met  in  London.  Do  you  remember  you  used  to 
come,  and  often  spend  the  evening  with  us  in  Seymour  street  ? 
And  now  I  have  four  boys  and  one  little  girl.  They  are  all  so 
good  and  promising  as  to  add  much  to  our  happiness.  Two  of 
them  are  still  at  school.  *  *  *  My  eldest  has  a  great 
desire  to  settle  in  the  States,  with  a  friend  who  goes  out  with 
him — a  very  nice,  gentlemanly  young  man.  *  *  *  I  wish 
you  would  give  us  your  advice  as  to  situation,  &c.  Climate 
would  be  one  of  the  first  considerations  ;  and  they  wish  to  go 
as  far  "West  as  would  be  convenient.     *     *     * 

I  must  not  exceed  my  space.  It  will  be  such  a  real  happi- 
ness to  hear  from  you.  Do  tell  me-  about  yourself,  dear  Mr. 
Irving.  You  do  not  know  how  much  and  often  I  think  of 
you.  Yours  ever,  most  truly, 

Emily  Fuller. 

To  this  letter  Mr.  Irving  sent  the  following  reply, 
which  came  to  me  from  Mrs.  Fuller  with  the  extracts 
given  in  a  former  volume,  and  accompanied  by  her 
own  beautiful  testimonial  to  his  character,  in  a  letter  to 
myself,  already  before  the  reader  : 

[To  Mrs.  Emily  Fuller.] 

StruNYSiDE,  July  2, 1856. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Fuller  : 

You  can  scarcely  imagine  my  surprise  and  delight,  on 
opening  your  letter  and  finding  that  it  came  from  Emily  Foster. 
A  thousand  recollections  broke  at  once  upon  my  mind,  of 
Emily  Foster  as  I  had  known  her  at  Dresden,  young,  and  fair, 
and  bright,  and  beautiful ;  and  I  could  hardly  realize  that  so 


JEx.  73.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  219 

many  years  had  elapsed  since  then,  or  form  an  idea  of  her  as 
Mrs.  Emily  Fuller,  with  four  boys  and  one  little  girl.  *  *  * 
I  wish  you  had  given  me  a  few  more  particulars  about  your- 
self, and  those  immediately  connected  with  you,  whom  I  have 
known.  After  so  long  an  interval,  one  fears  to  ask  questions, 
lest  they  should  awaken  painful  recollections. 

By  the  tenor  of  your  letter,  I  should  judge  that,  on  the 
whole,  the  world  has  gone  smoothly  with  you.  Your  children, 
you  tell  me,  are  all  "  so  good  and  promising,  as  to  add  much  to 
your  happiness."  How  much  of  what  is  most  precious  in  life 
is  conveyed  in  those  few  words !  You  ask  me  to  tell  you 
something  about  myself.  Since  my  return,  in  1846,  from  my 
diplomatic  mission  to  Spain,  I  have  been  leading  a  quiet  life  in 
a  little  rural  retreat  I  had  previously  established  on  the  banks 
of  the  Hudson,  which,  in  fact,  has  been  my  home  for  twenty 
years  past.  I  am  in  a  beautiful  part  of  the  country,  in  an 
agreeable  neighborhood,  am  on  the  best  of  terms  with  my 
neighbors,  and  have  a  house  full  of  nieces,  who  almost  make 
me  as  happy  as  if  I  were  a  married  man.  Your  letter  was  put 
into  my  hands  just  as  I  was  getting  into  the  carriage  to  drive 
out  with  some  of  them.  I  read  it  to  them  in  the  course  of  the 
drive,  letting  them  know  that  it  was  from  Emily  Foster,  the 
young  lady  of  whom  they  had  often  heard  me  speak ;  who 
had  painted  the  head  of  Herodias,  which  hangs  over  the  piano 
in  the  drawing  room,  and  who,  I  had  always  told  them,  was 
more  beautiful  than  the  head  which  she  had  painted  ;  which 
they  could  hardly  believe,  though  it  was  true.  You  recollect, 
I  trust,  the  miniature  copy  of  the  head  of  Herodias  which  you 
made  in  the  Dresden  Gallery.  I  treasure  it  as  a  precious  me* 
morial  of  those  pleasant  days. 

My  lifiilth  is  excellent,  though,  at  times,  I  have  tried  it 


220  LIFE  AND  LETTEKS  [1S56. 

hard  by  literary  occupations  and  excitement.  There  are  some 
propensities  that  grow  upon  men  with  age,  and  I  am  a  little 
more  addicted  to  the  pen  than  I  was  in  my  younger  days,  and 
much  more,  I  am  told,  than  is  prudent  for  a  man  of  my  years. 
It  is  a  labor,  however,  in  which  I  delight ;  and  I  am  never  so 
happy  of  an  evening,  as  when  I  have  passed  the  whole  morn- 
ing in  my  study,  hard  at  work,  and  have  earned  the  evening's 
recreation. 

Farewell,  my  dear  Mrs.  Fuller.  If  any  of  those  of  your 
family  whom  I  ever  knew  and  valued  are  at  hand,  assure  them 
that  I  ever  retain  them  in  cordial  remembrance ;  and  believe 
me,  ever,  my  dear  Emily  Foster,  your  affectionate  friend, 

"Washington  Ikving. 

I  shall  give,  in  an  Appendix  to  this  volume,  the 
whole  of  the  new  matter  so  unwarrantably  obtruded 
at  the  end  of  the  third  volume  of  the  English  edition 
of  my  work,  published  by  Mr.  Richard  Bentley. 

My  next  letter  is  one  from  Dickens  to  Mr.  Irving, 
introducing  a  relative,  glancing  at  a  capital  story  of 
Mr.  Irving  of  a  dinner  at  Holland  House,  in  which  a 
clergyman's  leg  was  a  feature,  and  giving  a  comic  yet 
touching  anecdote  of  poor  Rogers  in  his  eclipse  : 

[From  Charles  Dickens.'] 

Tavistock  House,  London,  July  5,  1856. 

My  dear  Irving  : 

If  you  knew  how  often  I  write  to  you,  individually  and 
personally,  in  my  books,  you  would  be  no  more  surprised  in 
seeing  this  note,  than  you  were  in  seeing  me  do  my  duty  by 


ALr.  73.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  221 

that  flowery  julep  (in  what  I  dreamily  apprehend  to  have  been 
a  former  state  of  existence)  at  Baltimore. 

Will  you  let  me  present  to  you  a  cousin  of  mine,  Mr.  B , 

who  is  associated  with  a  merchant's  house  in  New  York  ? 
Of  course,  he  wants  to  see  you,  and  know  you.  How  can  / 
wonder  at  that  ?     How  can  anybody  ? 

I  had  a  long  talk  with  Leslie  at  the  last  Academy  dinner 
(having  previously  been  with  him  in  Paris),  and  he  told  me 
that  you  were  flourishing.  I  suppose  you  know  that  he  wears 
a  moustache — so  do  I,  for  the  matter  of  that,  and  a  beard  too — 
and  that  he  looks  like  a  portrait  of  Don  Quixote. 

Holland  House  has  four-and-twenty  youthful  pages  in  it 
now — twelve  for  my  lord,  and  twelve  for  my  lady ;  and  no 
clergyman  coils  his  leg  up  under  his  chair  all  dinner  time,  and 
begins  to  uncurve  it  when  the  hostess  goes.     No  wheeled  chair 

runs  smoothly  in,  with  that  beaming  face  in  it ;    and  's 

little  cotton  pocket  handkerchief  helped  to  make  (I  believe) 
this  very  sheet  of  paper.  A  half-sad,  half-ludicrous  story  of 
Rogers  is  all  I  will  sully  it  with.  You  know,  I  dare  say,  that, 
for  a  year  or  so  before  his  death,  he  wandered,  and  lost  himself, 
like  one  of  the  Children  in  the  "Wood,  grown  up  there  and  grown 
down  again.  He  had  Mrs.  Procter  and  Mrs.  Carlyle  to  break- 
fast with  him,  one  morning — only  those  two.  Both  exces- 
sively talkative,  very  quick  and  clever,  and  bent  on  entertain- 
ing him.  When  Mrs.  Carlyle  had  flashed  and  shone  before 
him  for  about  three  quarters  of  an  hour  on  one  subject,  he 
turned  his  poor  old  eyes  on  Mrs.  Procter,  and,  pointing  to  the 
brilliant  discourser  with  his  poor  old  finger,  said  (indignantly), 
"  Who  is  she  t  "  Upon  this,  Mrs.  Procter,  cutting  in,  deliv- 
ered— (it  is  her  own  story) — a  neat  oration  on  the  life  and 


222  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1856. 

writings  of  Carlyle,  and  enlightened  him  in  her  happiest  and 
airiest  manner ;  all  of  which  he  heard,  staring  in  the  dreariest 
silence,  and  then  said  (indignantly  as  before),  "  And  who  are 
you?"     *     *     *. 

Ever,  my  dear  Irving,  most  affectionately  and  truly,  yours, 

Charles  Dickens. 

While  engrossed,  as  far  as  incessant  interruptions 
would  permit,  by  the  task  of  preparing  his  fourth  vol- 
ume of  the  Life  of  Washington  for  the  press,  he  writes 
a  letter  to  his  niece,  at  Paris,  of  which  I  extract  some 
interesting  passages.  The  "  Pierre  "  mentioned  in  the 
first  extract  is  not  the  editor,  but  the  eldest  son  of  his 
brother  Ebenezer,  Pierre  Paris  Irving,  an  Episcopal 
clergyman,  who  had  recently  returned  to  his  parochial 
duties  from  a  brief  excursion  in  Europe,  which  had 
extended  to  the  Orkneys. 

[To  Mrs.  Storrow.] 

Sttnnyside,  Oct.  27, 1856. 

*  *  *  After  Pierre's  return  from  France  to  England, 
he  made  an  expedition  to  the  end  of  the  world — in  other 
words,  to  the  Orkneys  !  It  was  in  those  islands  that  the 
branch  of  the  Irving  family  from  which  we  are  descended 
vegetated  for  centuries  ;  once  having  great  landed  possessions, 
ultimately  losing  them. 

Pierre  found  a  highly  intelligent  circle  of  society  existing 
at  Kirkwall,  the  capital  of  the  Orkneys,  principally  composed 
of  persons  from  Edinburgh,  holding  official  stations.  He  was 
hospitably  entertained  by  them,  in  a  style  of  elegance  which 
he  had  not  expected  in  that  remote  region. 


JEt.  73.]  OP  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  223 

At  Shapinsha,  the  island  whence  my  father  came,  Pierre 
was  shown  the  house  in  which  he  was  born,  and  whence  he 
emigrated  about  a  century  since.  It  is  a  house  of  modest  pre- 
tensions, and  still  bears  its  old  name  of  Quholme  (pronounced 
Home).  In  the  flourishing  days  of  our  family,  it  must  have 
owned  the  greater  part  of  Shapinsha.  Mr.  Balfour,  the  pres- 
ent proprietor,  received  Pierre  very  hospitably  in  his  noble 
residence  of  Balfour  Castle,  and  submitted  to  his  inspection  a 
chest  full  of  deeds  and  documents  of  several  generations,  show- 
ing how,  by  piecemeal,  the  landed  property  passed  out  of  the 
hands  of  the  Irving?,  and  centred  in  those  of  the  family  which 
at  present  hold  it.  Pierre  brought  home  one  of  those  docu- 
ments, given  to  him  by  Mr.  Balfour,  three  or  four  centuries  old, 
bearing  the  name  of  one  of  our  ancestors,  with  the  old  family 
arms  of  the  Three  Holly  Leaves.  He  also  brought  home  a 
genealogy  of  the  family,  which  some  official  gentleman,  curious 
in  antiquarian  research,  had  digested  from  deeds  and  other 
documents  existing  at  the  Orkneys,  and  in  the  public  archives 
at  Edinburgh.  This  genealogical  table,  which  is  officially  cer- 
tified, establishes  the  fact  of  our  being  descended  from  the 
Irving  of  Bonshaw,  who  gave  shelter  to  Robert  the  Bruce  in 
the  day  of  his  adversity. 

*  *  *  You  are  going  to  pass  the  winter  at  a  city  I 
never  visited — Florence.  At  the  time  I  was  in  Italy,  a  cordon 
of  troops  was  drawn  round  Tuscany,  on  account  of  a  malignant 
fever  prevalent  there,  and  I  was  obliged  to  omit  the  whole  of 
it  in  my  Italian  tour.  I  also  failed  to  see  Venice,  which  I 
have  ever  regretted. 

Your  letter  of  last  June  mentions  your  being  just  returned 
from  an  excursion  of  four  days  to  Touraine.  It  recalled  a  tour 
I  once  made  there  with  your  uncle  Peter,  in  which,  besides 


224  LIFE  AND  LETTEiiS  [1S56. 

visiting  the  places  you  speak  of,  we  passed  a  day  or  two  in  the 
beautiful  old  chateau  of  Ussy,  belonging  to  the  Duke  of 
Duras,  the  Duchess  having  given  me  a  letter  to  the  concierge, 
which  put  the  chateau  and  its  domains  at  my  disposition.  Our 
sojourn  was  very  interesting.  The  chateau  had  a  half-deserted 
character.  The  Duke  had  not  fortune  enough  to  keep  it  up  in 
style,  and  only  visited  it  occasionally  in  the  hunting  season. 
There  were  the  traces  of  former  gayety  and  splendor — a  pri- 
vate theatre,  all  in  decay  and  disorder ;  an  old  chapel  turned 
into  a  granary ;  state  apartments,  with  stately  family  portraits 
in  quaint,  antiquated  costumes,  but  some  of  them  mouldering 
in  their  frames.  I  found,  afterward,  that  the  Duchess  had 
hoped  I  might  be  excited  to  write  something  about  the  old 
chateau  in  the  style  of  Bracebridge  Hall :  and  it  would  indeed 
have  been  a  fine  subject.     *     *     * 


Mt.  73.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  225 


CHAPTEE    XIY. 

LETTERS  TO  CHARLES  LANMAN —  FOURTH  VOLUME  OF  LIFE  OF  WASHTNGTOW 
GOING  THROUGH  THE  PRESS  —  LETTER  TO  HENRY  T.  TUCKERMAN  —  PUBLICA- 
TION OF  VOL.  IV  —  LETTER  FROM  GEORGE  BANCROFT  —  REPLY  —  LETTER  TO 
FREDERICK  S.  COZZENS— LETTER  FROM  WILLIAM  U.  PRESCOTT  — LETTER  FROM 
J.   LOTHROP   MOTLEY — LETTER   FROM   S.   AUSTIN  ALLIBONE,   AND   REPLY. 

rpiHE  letter  which  follows  is  addressed  to  a  young 
•*-     author,  to  whom  Mr.  Irving  had  before  written 
encouragingly  in  acknowledgment  of  the  presentation 
of  his  first  work  : 

\To  Mr.  Charles  Lanman.~\ 

Sunntside,  March  2, 1857. 

My  dear  Mr.  Lanman  : 

I  am  suffering  a  long  time  to  elapse  without  acknowledging 
the  receipt  of  the  copy  of  your  work*  which  you  have  had  the 
kindness  to  send  me,  and  expressing  to  you  the  great  delight  I 
take  in  the  perusal  of  it.  But  when  I  remind  you  that  I  am 
approaching  my  seventy-fourth  birthday;  that  I  am  laboring 
to  launch  the  fourth  volume  of  my  Life  of  Washington  ;  and 
that  my  table  is  loaded  with  a  continually  increasing  multitude 
of  unanswered  letters,  which  I  vainly  endeavor  to  cope  with,  I 

*  Adventures  in  the  Wilds  of  America. 
Vol..  IV.— 10*  (15) 


226  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1857. 

am  sure  that  you  will  excuse  the  tardiness  of  my  correspond- 
ence. 

I  hope  the  success  of  your  work  has  been  equal  to  its 
merits.  To  me,  your  "  Adventures  in  the  Wilds "  are  a  con- 
tinual refreshment  of  the  spirits.  I  take  a  volume  of  your 
work  to  bed  with  me,  after  fagging  with  my  pen,  and  then  I 
ramble  with  you  among  the  mountains  and  by  the  streams  in 
the  boundless  interior  of  our  fresh,  unhackneyed  country,  and 
only  regret  that  I  can  but  do  so  in  idea,  and  that  I  am  not 
young  enough  to  be  your  companion  in  reality. 

I  have  taken  great  interest,  of  late,  in  your  Expedition 
among  the  Alleghany  Mountains,  having  been  campaigning,  in 
my  work,  in  the  upper  parts  of  the  Carolinas,  and  especially  in 
the  "  Catawba  country,"  about  which  you  give  such  graphic 
sketchings.  Really,  I  look  upon  your  work  as  a  vade  mecicm 
to  the  American  lover  of  the  picturesque  and  romantic,  unfold- 
ing to  him  the  wilderness  of  beauties  and  the  variety  of  ad- 
venturous life  to  be  found  in  our  great  chains  of  mountains  and 
system  of  lakes  and  rivers.  You  are,  in  fact,  the  picturesque 
explorer  of  our  country. 

"With  great  regard,  my  dear  Mr.  Lanman,  yours  ever,  very 
truly, 

"Washington  Irving. 

By  the  following  brief  notes  to  myself,  it  will 
appear  that  the  fourth  volume  of  the  Life  of  Washing- 
ton was  going  through  the  press,  and  that  he  was 
prone  to  make  modifications  and  corrections  during  the 
process : 


jEt.73.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  227 

StrNNTSiDE,  March  20, 1857. 

My  dear  Pierre  : 

Page  161  must  be  carefully  collated  with  the  manuscript. 
There  are  two  places  where  I  cannot  supply  the  deficit. 

I  have  struck  out  some  lines  in  page  172,  so  that  the  chap- 
ter may  end  on  page  173,  and  save  the  great  blank  in  page 
174.  The  printers  appear  to  be  fond  of  ending  a  chapter  at 
the  top  of  a  page. 

I  have  no  doubt  of  getting  the  Inauguration  into  this  vol- 
ume ;  but  the  printers  must  not  make  blank  pages  unneces- 
sarily. 

Sunntsidb,  Monday  Evening. 

There  is  a  passage  in,  I  think,  De  Rochambeau's  Memoirs, 
about  the  sending  in  a  flag,  at  Yorktown,  to  Cornwallis,  to 
obtain  permission  for  Secretary  Nelson  to  leave  the  town  ;  and 
about  his  being  brought  out  on  a  litter,  being  old,  and  ill  with 
the  gout.  I  wish  you  would  copy  it,  and  send  it  to  me  with 
the  next  proofs,  as  I  wish  to  make  immediate  use  of  it.  You 
will  find  De  Rochambeau's  Memoirs  in  the  American  depart- 
ment of  the  Astor  Library. 

If  it  is  not  in  De  Rochambeau's  Memoirs,  it  is  in  Chastel- 
lux ;  but  I  think  it  is  in  the  former. 

It  was  in  Chastellux. 

Sunnyside,  March  22,  1857. 

I  send  you  the  page  which  was  missing.  Fortunately,  I 
had  impaled  it,  as  I  now  do  all  the  cancelled  pages.     *     *     * 

Scnntside,  Tuesday  Evening. 

*    *    *    I  shall  send  no  copy  for  a  day  or  two,  for  I  am 


228  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1857. 

fagged  and  a  little  out  of  order,  and  need  rest ;  and  I  -wish  to 
be  careful  about  the  ensuing  chapters,  which  I  have  been 
patching,  and  must  revise  to  avoid  muddling.  *  *  *  I 
shall  be  heartily  glad  to  receive  the  last  proof  sheet. 

IsTot  long  after  this  note  was  written,  Mr.  Irving 
received  a  visit  from  Mr.  Charles  Lanman,  who  had 
recently  sent  him  his  "  Adventures  in  the  "Wilds  of 
America,"  for  which  he  makes  his  acknowledgment  in 
a  letter  just  given.  On  his  return  to  his  residence,  at 
Georgetown,  Mr.  Lanman  gave  a  detail  of  his  visit  in 
a  letter  to  Peter  Force,  Esq.,  entitled,  "  A  Day  with 
"Washington  Irving,"  which  was  published  in  the  Na- 
tional Intelligencer,  and  enclosed  in  an  epistle  from 
the  writer  to  Mr.  Irving.  This  is  his  tardy  but  charac- 
teristic acknowledgment : 

[ To  Charles  Lanman,  Georgetown,  D.  C\ 

Scnntsidb,  May  9, 1857. 

My  dear  Mr.  Lanman  : 

I  have  been  too  thoroughly  occupied  in  getting  a  volume 
of  my  work  through  the  press,  to  acknowledge,  at  an  earlier 
date,  your  letter  of  March  24tb,  respecting  your  letter*  which 
has  found  its  way  into  the  Intelligencer.  I  can  only  say,  that 
I  wish  you  had  had  a  worthier  subject  for  your  biographic  pen, 
or  that  I  had  known  our  conversation  was  likely  to  be  re- 
corded ;  I  should  then  have  tasked  myself  to  say  some  wise 
or  witty  things,  to  be  given  as  specimens  of  my  off-hand 
table  talk.     One  should  always  know  when  they  are  sitting  for 

*  A  letter  to  Peter  Force,  Esq. 


JEt.  74.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  229 

a  portrait,  that  they  may  endeavor  to  look  handsomer  than 

themselves,  and  attitudinize. 

I  am  scrawling  this  in  great  haste,  merely  that  your  letter 

may  not  remain  longer  unacknowledged ;  and  am,  very  truly, 

your  friend, 

Washington  Irving. 

The  letter  which  follows  is  addressed  to  Mr.  Henry 
T.  Tuckerman,  in  acknowledgment  of  his  volume  of 
"  Biographical  Essays,"  which  Mr.  Irving  had  pro- 
nounced, in  a  previous  letter,  written  on  a  partial  peru- 
sal, the  best  work  he  had  given  to  the  public,  and  one 
that  must  greatly  advance  his  reputation : 

[To  Mr.  II.  T.  Tuckerman.] 

Scitoyside,  Jan.  26, 1857. 

My  dear  Mr.  Tuckerman  : 

I  wrote  to  you,  some  days  since,  on  the  subject  of  your 
new  work,  when  I  had  read  but  a  part  of  it.  I  have  just  fin- 
ished the  perusal  of  it,  and  cannot  rest  until  I  have  told  you 
how  thoroughly  I  have  been  delighted  with  it.  I  do  not  know 
when  I  have  read  any  work  more  uniformly  rich,  full,  and  well 
sustained.  The  liberal,  generous,  catholic  spirit  in  which  it  is 
written,  is  beyond  all  praise.     The  work  is  a  model  of  its  kind. 

I  have  no  doubt  that  it  will  take  a  high  stand  in  England, 
and  will  reflect  great  credit  on  our  literature,  of  which  it  will 
remain  a  lasting  ornament. 

Congratulating  you,  with  all  my  heart,  on  this  crowning 
achievement  of  your  literary  career  I  remain,  yours,  very  cor- 
dially and  truly, 

Washington  Irving. 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1857. 

The  fourth  volume  of  the  Life  of  Washington  was 
published  in  May.  The  first  letter  he  received  on  the 
subject  was  from  Bancroft,  who  pronounced  the  pic- 
ture he  had  drawn  of  Washington  "  the  most  vivid  and 
the  truest "  that  had  "  ever  been  written."  To  a  warm, 
congratulatory  letter  from  Mr.  Frederick  S.  Cozzens, 
author  of  the  humorous  "  Sparrowgrass  Papers,"  a 
resident  of  Yonkers,  about  eight  miles  south  of  Sunny- 
side,  he  sends  the  following  characteristic  reply : 

SraNYSiDE,  May  22, 1S57. 

My  dear  Me.  Cozzens  : 

Your  letter  has  been  most  acceptable  and  animating ;  for 
letters  of  the  kind  are  not,  as  you  presume,  "  common  to  me  as 
blackberries."  Excepting  a  very  cordial  and  laudatory  one 
from  Bancroft,  yours  is  the  only  one,  relative  to  my  last  vol- 
ume, that  I  have  yet  received.  Backed  by  these  two  letters,  I 
feel  strong  enough  to  withstand  that  self-criticism  which  is  apt 
to  beset  me  and  cuff  me  down  at  the  end  of  a  work,  when  the 
excitement  of  composition  is  over. 

You  speak  of  some  misgivings  which  you  felt  in  the  course 
of  my  literary  enterprise,  whether  I  would  be  able  to  go  through 
with  it,  and  "end  as  happily  as  I  had  begun."  I  confess  I  had 
many  misgivings  of  the  kind  myself,  as  I  became  aware  of  the 
magnitude  of  the  theme  upon  which  I  had  adventured,  and 
saw  "  wilds  immeasurably  spread "  lengthening  on  every  side 
as  I  proceeded.  I  felt  that  I  had  presumed  on  the  indulgence 
of  nature  in  undertaking  such  a  task  at  my  time  of  life,  and 
feared  I  might  break  down  in  the  midst.of  it.  Whimsical  as 
it  may  seem,  I  was  haunted  occasionally  by  one  of  my  own 
early  pleasantries.     My  mock  admonition  to  Diedrich  Knicker- 


yET.  74.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  231 

bocker  not  to  idle  in  his  historic  wayfaring,  rose  in  judgment 
against  me  :  "  Is  not  Time,  relentless  Time,  shaking,  with  pal- 
sied hand,  his  almost  exhausted  hourglass  before  thee  ?  Has- 
ten, then,  to  pursue  thy  weary  task,  lest  the  last  sands  be  run 
.  ere  thou  hast  finished  thy  history  of  the  Manhattoes." 

Fortunately,  I  had  more  powers  of  endurance  in  me  than  I 
gave  myself  credit  for.  I  have  attained  to  a  kind  of  landing 
place  in  my  work,  and,  as  I  now  rest  myself  on  the  bank,  feel 
that,  though  a  little  weary,  I  am  none  the  worse  for  having  so 
long  tugged  at  the  oar. 

And  now,  as  the  winter  is  past,  the  rains  are  over  and 
gone,  and  the  flowers  are  appearing  upon  the  earth,  I  mean  to 
recreate  myself  a  little,  and  may,  one  day  or  other,  extend  my 
travels  down  even  to  Yonkers,  but  will  always  be  happy  to 
welcome  you  to  Sunnyside. 

"With  kindest  remembrances  to  Mrs.  Cozzens,  believe  me, 
very  truly,  your  obliged  friend, 

Washington  Ieving. 

I  now  place  before  the  reader  the  two  following 
letters ;  the  first  written  by  Prescott  after  completing 
the  perusal  of  the  fourth  volume  of  the  Life  of  "Wash- 
ington, and  the  second  by  Motley,  about  to  leave  the 
country,  and  whom  Mr.  Irving  never  met.  Motley 
had  recently  achieved  a  brilliant  fame  by  Ins  "  Rise  of 
the  Dutch  Republic;"  and,  after  some  modest  demur 
to  which  his  letter  alludes,  had  sent  his  volumes  to 
Mr.  Irving,  who  responded  with  a  sincere  and  warm 
eulogy : 


232  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1857. 

[From  Mr.  W.  H.  Prescott] 

Lynn,  Mass.,  Aug.  7,  1857. 

My  dear  Mr.  Irving  : 

I  have  just  closed  the  fourth  volume  of  your  Life  of 
"Washington.  I  have  not  hurried  myself,  as  you  see ;  and, 
in  truth,  a  man  who  travels  through  books  with  the  ear,  instead 
of  the  eye,  cannot  hurry.  I  don't  know  whether  you  care 
about  remarks  on  your  books  from  friends,  though  they  be 
brothers  of  the  craft ;  but  it  always  seems  to  me  that,  when 
one  has  derived  great  pleasure  from  reading  an  author,  to  make 
no  acknowledgment  is  as  uncourteous  as  for  a  gourmand,  after 
he  has  crammed  himself  with  a  good  dinner,  to  go  away  with- 
out a  civil  word  to  his  host. 

My  wife,  who  has  been  my  reader,  and  myself,  have  in- 
deed read  with  the  greatest  interest  this  your  last  work — an 
interest  which  went  on  crescendo  from  the  beginning,  and 
which  did  not  reach  its  climax  till  the  last  pages.  I  have 
never  before  fully  comprehended  the  character  of  "Washing- 
ton ;  nor  did  I  know  what  capabilities  it  would  afford  to  his 
biographer.  Hitherto  we  have  only  seen  him  as  a  sort  of 
marble  Colossus,  full  of  moral  greatness,  but  without  the  touch 
of  humanity  that  would  give  him  interest.  You  have  known 
how  to  give  the  marble  flesh  color,  that  brings  it  to  the  resem- 
blance of  life.  This  you  have  done  throughout ;  but  it  is 
more  especially  observable  in  the  first  volume  and  in  the  last. 
No  one — at  least,  I  am  sure,  no  American — could  read  the  last 
without  finding  pretty  often  a  blur  upon  the  page.  Yet,  I  see, 
like  your  predecessors,  you  are  not  willing  to  mar  the  beautiful 
picture,  by  giving  Washington  the  infirmity  of  temper  which 


^Et.  74.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  233 

common  report  assigns  to  him.     Perhaps  you  are  not  satisfied 
with  the  foundations  of  such  a  report. 

I  had  feared,  from  your  manner  of  talking,  that  you  would 
never  set  about  the  great  work  in  earnest.  Happy  for  the 
country  that  it  ha3  been  at  last  accomplished  by  your  pen ! 

It  is  long  since  I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you,  though  I 
often  get  particulars  about  you.  How  gratified  should  I  be,  for 
one  of  many,  if  you  would  pay  a  visit  to  our  northern  lati- 
tudes !  I  so  rarely  go  to  New  York,  that,  when  I  go,  the 
memory  of  friends  like  Brevoort,  "Wainwright,  and  a  few 
others,  rises  to  my  mind,  and  fills  it  with  a  melancholy  feeling. 

Adieu,  my  dear  Mr.  Irving.  Long  may  it  be  before  you 
are  called  away,  and  before  you  cease  to  give  pleasure  and 
instruction  to  the  world  by  your  writings. 

Always,  very  sincerely,  your  friend, 

Wm.  H.  Prescott. 

\J.  Lothrojp  Motley  to  Washington  Irving^\ 

Boston,  Aug.  7,  1857. 

My  bear  Sir  : 

You  must  permit  me  to  address  you  a  single  line  of  thanks 
for  the  kind  note  you  did  me  the  honor  of  sending  me  several 
days  since. 

To  receive  such  warm  and  generous  commendation  from  so 
venerated  a  hand,  is  sufficient  reward  for  literary  labor,  al- 
though it  were  far  more  severe  and  more  successful  than  mine 
has  been. 

Having  been,  from  youth  upward,  among  the  warmest 
and  most  enthusiastic  admirers  of  your  genius,  I  appreciate 
entirely  the  generosity  with  which  you  extend  to  me  the  hand 
of  fellowship  and  sympathy. 


234:  LIFE  -A^0  LETTERS  [1857. 

It  is  your  great  good  fortune  to  command  not  only  the 
respect  and  admiration  of  your  innumerable  readers,  but  their 
affection  also.  A  feeling  of  personal  obligation — almost  of 
personal  friendship — mingles  itself,  in  their  minds,  with  the 
colder  sentiments  which  are  often  entertained  toward  even  a 
successful  author. 

I  will  not  proceed  in  this  vein,  lest  I  should  say  more  than 
you  would  think  becoming,  as  addressed  directly  to  yourself. 
I  will  only  say,  that  when  the  book  of  which  you  have  been 
pleased  to  speak  so  indulgently  first  appeared,  I  wished  very 
much  to  depart,  in  a  single  instance,  from  the  rule  which  I  had 
laid  down — not  to  send,  namely,  a  copy  to  any  one  who  was 
not  an  old  personal  acquaintance.  I  did  wish  very  much  to 
send  you  one,  as  a  testimony  of  gratitude  and  respect  from  one 
who  had  been  long  most  familiar  with  you,  although  utterly 
unknown  to  you.  I  refrained,  however,  until  recently,  and  I 
am  rejoiced  to  find  that  you  did  not  consider  my  sending  the 
book  an  intrusion. 

I  need  not  tell  you  how  bitterly  disappointed  I  was  at  miss- 
ing the  promised  pleasure  of  meeting  you  at  dinner  at  Presi- 
dent King's.  It  is  just  possible  that  you  may  not  know  the 
nature  of  the  contretemps.  Mr.  King  was  so  kind,  upon  my 
expressing  a  strong  desire  to  see  you,  as  to  invite  me  to  New 
York  upon  a  certain  day,  when  he  hoped  also  to  have  the 
pleasure  of  your  company.  Subsequently,  by  letter,  he  coun- 
termanded this  arrangement,  thinking  you  absent  from  home. 
Nevertheless,  on  the  day  before  the  appointed  one,  I  was 
ready,  with  my  trunk  packed,  to  take  the  afternoon  boat  for 
New  York,  and  wTent  to  the  post  office,  hoping  for  a  summons. 
There  was  nothing  there,  so  I  remained.  Five  days  after  the 
dinner,  I  received  from  Mr.  King  a  telegraphic  dispatch  via 


JEr.  74.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  235 

Nahant  (where  I  had  not  been  for  several  days),  notifying  me 
that  you  were  to  dine  with  him  "  to-morrow" — that  to-morrow 
having  already  crept,  with  its  stealthy  pace,  into  the  regions  of 
eternal  yesterday.  Alas  !  I  must  say,  in  the  bitterness  of  my 
spirit, 

"  The  best  laid  schemes  of  mice  and  men 
Gang  aft  a-gley, 
And  leave  us  nought  but  grief  and  pain 
For  promised  joy ; " 

for  the  pleasure  which  I  anticipated  has  been  turned  into  a 
perpetual  "  grief  and  pain."  I  indulge  the  hope  of  meeting 
you,  however,  after  my  return. 

I  leave  this  country  on  the  12th  of  this  month.  If  I  can 
be  of  any  service  to  you  in  England  or  France,  during  my 
residence  there,  I  need  not  say  how  much  it  will  gratify  me  to 
be  of  use  to  you.  My  address  is,  "  Care  of  Baring  Brothers 
&  Co." 

Meantime,  with  sentiments  of  the  most  sincere  respect  and 
regard,  I  remain,  your  obliged  friend  and  servant, 

J.  Lothrop  Motley. 

The  following  "brief  correspondence  between  Mr. 
Irving  and  S.  Austin  Allibone,  of  Philadelphia,  author 
of  the  "  Dictionary  of  Authors,"  is  not  without  in- 
terest : 

\To  Washington  Irving.] 

Philadelphia,  Oct.  28,  1857. 

Dear  Sir: 

Last  night,  or  rather  this  morning — for  it  was  after  mid- 
night— I  was  deeply  engrossed  with  your  graphic  picture  of 
your  own  residence  in  the  Aihambra  in  the  spring  of  1829. 


236  LrFE  AND  LETTERS  [1857. 

It  occurs  to  me  to  send  you  the  descriptive  title  of  Owen 
Jones's  illustrations  of  the  Alhambra.  May  I  venture  to  ask, 
whether  the  thrilling  sketch  of  your  midnight  "night- walking" 
through  the  halls  of  the  Alhambra  is  an  account  of  a  real 
ramble,  or  whether  it  is  partly  a  fancy  picture,  founded  on 
fact  ?  It  is  certainly  one  of  your  best  passages,  and  that  is 
saying  a  great  deal. 

I  am,  dear  sir,  very  truly  yours, 

S.  Austin  Allibone. 

[2b  S.  Austin  Allibone.'] 

Sunnyside,  Nov.  2,  1857. 

Mr  dear  Sir  : 

"We  have  in  the  Astor  Library  a  copy  of  Owen  Jones's 
work  illustrative  of  the  Alhambra.  I  have  lately  seen  a  num- 
ber of  photographs  of  various  parts  of  the  Alhambra,  which  I 
believe  are  intended  for  publication.  They  will  give  a  per- 
fectly truthful  idea  of  the  old  pile. 

The  account  of  my  midnight  rambles  about  the  old  palace 
is  literally  true,  yet  gives  but  a  feeble  idea  of  my  feelings  and 
impressions,  and  of  the  singular  haunts  I  was  exploring. 

Everything  in  the  work  relating  to  myself,  and  to  the 
actual  inhabitants  of  the  Alhambra,  is  unexaggerated  fact. 

It  was  only  in  the  legends  that  I  indulged  in  romancing ; 
and  these  were  founded  on  materials  picked  up  about  the  place. 

"With  great  regard,  my  dear  sir,  yours  very  truly, 

"Washington  Irving. 


JSt.  74.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  237 


CHAPTER    XV. 

A  LITERARY  HARVEST— ENGAGED  ON  HIS  FIFTH  VOLUME — LETTER  TO  MRS.  STOR- 
HOW — THE  CRISIS  OF  1S57 — CONVERSATIONS — KEMBLE— COOKE— COOPER — 
DARLEY  AND  DIEDRICH  KNICKERBOCKER — WASHINGTON  ALLSTON — LETTER  TO 
BANCROFT — LETTER  TO  PROFESSOR  LIEBER — LETTER  TO  MISS  J.  I.  GRINNELL 
— THE  ATLANTIC  CABLE— INDISPOSITION — LETTER  TO  A  JUVENILE  CORRE- 
SPONDENT. 

rpHE  year  1857  had  been  a  calamitous  year  for  per- 
-**  sons  engaged  in  trade  ;  and  Mr.  Irving,  who  had 
been  in  suspense  in  regard  to  his  publisher's  affairs, 
found  it  necessary  to  make  a  settlement  with  Mr.  Put- 
nam, and  continue  his  connection  with  him  on  a  differ- 
ent footing.  Their  connection,  thus  far,  had  been  most 
advantageous  to  both ;  but  other  enterprises  swept 
from  the  upright  and  liberal  publisher  the  profits  real- 
ized from  the  sale  of  Irving's  works.  On  preparing 
for  Mr.  Irving,  in  December,  1857,  a  summary  of  his 
sales  and  receipts  from  July,  1848 — when  he  made  his 
first  agreement  with  Mr.  Putnam  for  the  publication 
of  a  new  edition  of  his  already  published  works — to 
June  30th,  1857,  a  period  of  nine  years,  I  found  there 
had  been  sold  about  three  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
volumes,  and  that  he  had  realized  about  eighty  thou- 


238  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1858. 

sand  dollars ;  that  is,  his  receipts  had  averaged  about 
nine  thousand  dollars  a  year — a  prolific  literary  har- 
vest. At  the  opening  of  \he  year  1858,  I  wrote  to 
him  :  "  The  contract  with  Mr.  Putnam,  to  begin  April 
1st,  has  been  executed."  By  this  contract,  Mr.  Put- 
nam, who  had  made  a  full  settlement  of  their  present 
business,  was  to  act  as  his  agent,  Mr.  Irving  purchas- 
ing from  him  the  stereotype  plates  of  all  his  works.  I 
had  written  to  him  on  the  31st  of  December :  "  In 
taking  a  business  retrospect  of  the  year  that  is  just 
closing,  it  may  be  a  satisfaction  to  you  to  know  that 
you  have  received  from  Mr.  Putnam,  in  the  course  of 
it,  what  is  equivalent  to  twenty-five  thousand  dollars. 
Though  the  close  of  the  year  has  been  attended  with 
some  annoyances,  I  think,  therefore,  you  may  bid  it 
farewell  with  a  blessing." 

At  the  date  of  the  following  letter  to  his  niece,  at 
Paris,  Mr.  Irving  was  trying,  with  apparent  benefit,  a 
prescription  for  an  obstinate  catarrh,  which  had  been 
very  troublesome  of  late.  Three  days  after  its  date 
(February  18th),  I  was  led,  by  some  anxiety  in  regard 
to  his  health,  to  the  cottage,  to  spend  a  few  days.  A 
temporary  deafness,  which  had  been  shifting  from  one 
ear  to  the  other,  had  now  reached  both  ears,  so  that  I 
found  it  necessary  to  speak  above  my  natural  tone  to 
be  heard  by  him.  He  was  troubled,  also,  with  diffi- 
culty of  breathing,  especially  in  making  ascents,  and 
told  me  that  he  had  been  sensible,  for  some  time,  of 
shortness  of  breath,  in  going  up   hill,  to  an  unusual 


Mt.  74.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  239 

degree.  It  "was  evident  to  him  that  the  "  harp  of  thou- 
sand strings  "  was  no  longer  "  in  tune."  "  But  I  can- 
not complain  now,"  said  he  to  me,  "  if  some  of  the 
chords  should  be  breaking."  That  morning,  for  the 
first  time  in  about  a  month,  he  had  taken  pen  in  hand 
and  written  a  page  on  his  historical  task.  December 
14th,  he  had  written  me  that  he  was  "in  the  vein, 
and  anxious  to  complete  the  rough  draft  of  his  final 
volume." 

[7b  Mrs.  Storrow.~\ 

Sc.NNTSiDE,  Feb.  15, 1858. 

My  dear  Sarah  : 

Your  letter  of  January  9th  came  to  me  like  a  reproach, 
making  me  feel  my  delinquency  in  not  having  answered  your 
previous  letter ;  but  I  am  unavoidably  a  delinquent  on  this 
score,  my  weary  brain  being  overtasked  by  my  literary  under- 
takings, and  unable  to  cope  with  the  additional  claims  of  an 
overwhelming  correspondence.  I  am  endeavoring  to  accom- 
plish a  fifth  volume,  wherewith  to  close  the  Life  of  Washing- 
ton, but  I  work  more  slowly  than  heretofore.  For  two  or 
three  years  past  I  have  been  troubled  by  an  obstinate  catarrh, 
but  this  winter  it  has  been  quite  harassing,  at  times  quite  stupe- 
fying me.  Recently  I  have  put  myself  under  medical  treat- 
ment, and  begin  to  feel  the  benefit  of  it. 

Mr.  Storrow  must  have  brought  you  lamentable  accounts 
of  the  state  of  affairs  in  this  country  during  the  late  revulsion. 
He  was  here  in  the  height  of  the  storm,  when  we  seemed  to 
be  threatened  with  an  almost  universal  shipwreck.  Happily, 
the  crisis  is  past ;  things  are  returning  to  order,  but  it  will  take 
some  time  for  business  to  regain  its  usual  activity.     *     *     * 


24:0  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1858. 

Fortunately,  I  have  experienced  but  a  very  moderate  loss  in 
my  investments,  and  my  relations  with  my  publisher  have  been 
placed  on  a  different  footing,  which,  I  trust,  will  prove  advan- 
tageous to  us  both. 

I  have  never  been  more  struck  with  the  energy  and  elas- 
ticity of  the  national  character,  than  in  observing  how  spirit- 
edly it  has  struggled  with  this  overwhelming  calamity,  and  is 
exerting  itself,  amid  the  ruins  of  past  prosperity,  to  build  up 
the  edifice  anew.  The  crisis  has  been  felt  sorely  in  my  imme- 
diate neighborhood,  among  those  who  were  largely  in  business, 
some  of  whom  have  been  completely  ruined ;  yet  they  have 
borne  their  reverses  manfully,  and  are  looking  forward  hope- 
fully to  better  times. 

I  have  a  very  pleasant  social  neighborhood ;  and  it  has 
been  more  social  than  usual  this  winter,  people  seeming  to 
draw  closer  together  and  seek  refuge  in  cordial  intercourse  from 
external  evils.  Indeed,  I  am  so  happy  in  my  neighborhood, 
and  the  home  feeling  has  grown  so  strong  with  me,  that  I  go 
very  little  to  town,  and  have  scarcely  slept  a  dozen  nights 
there  within  the  last  twelve  months.  Perhaps  it  is  the  effect 
of  gathering  years,  to  settle  more  and  more  into  the  quiet  of 
one's  elbow  chair. 

****** 

You  have  no  doubt  learned,  before  this,  that  the  G s 

intend  to  set  out,  in  June  next,  on  a  European  tour.  I  can 
easily  imagine  what  a  delightful  meeting  it  will  be  when  you 
all  come  together.  I  wish  they  could  bring  you  all  back  with 
them,  and  put  an  end  to  your  protracted  absence  from  your 
natural  home,  which  I  cannot  help  considering  a  protracted 


JJt.74.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  241 

"With  kind  remembrances  to  Mr.  Storrow,  and  love  to  the 
young  folks,  your  affectionate  uncle, 

"Washington  Irving. 

February  19^,  1858,  at  Sunnyside. — Mr.  Irving 
had  been  kept  awake  until  after  three  by  coughing, 
yet  seemed  in  tolerable  spirits  at  breakfast,  and  re- 
sumed his  writing  after  it.  The  next  day  he  got 
speaking  of  George  Frederick  Cooke,  the  eminent  per- 
former. "  He  was  a  great  actor,"  he  said ;  "  a  great 
actor.  The  finest  group  I  ever  saw,  was  at  Covent 
Garden,  when  Cooke,  after  long  disgrace  for  his  intem- 
perance, reappeared  on  the  boards  to  play  Iago  to 
John  Kemble's  Othello.  Mrs.  Siddons  played  Desde- 
mona  and  Charles  Kemble  Cassio,  beautifully.  Kemble 
[John]  had  sent  for  Cooke  to  rehearse  with  him  at  his 
room,  but  Cooke  would  not  go.  '  Let  Blade  Jack ' — 
so  he  called  Kemble — '  come  to  me.'  So  they  went  on 
the  boards  without  previous  rehearsal.  In  the  scene 
in  which  Iago  instils  his  suspicion,  Cooke  grasped 
Kemble's  left  hand  with  his  own,  and  then  fixed  his 
right,  like  a  claw,  on  his  shoulder.  In  this  position, 
drawing  himself  up  to  him  with  his  short  arm,  lie 
breathed  his  poisonous  whispers.  Kemble  coiled  and 
twisted  his  hand,  writhing  to  get  away — his  right  hand 
clasping  his  brow,  and  darting  his  eye  back  on  Iago. 
It  was  wonderful.  Speaking  to  Cooke  of  the  effect  on 
me  of  this  scene,  after  his  arrival  in  New  York  [in 
1810],  'Didn't  I   play  up   to  Black   Jack!'    he   ex- 

Vol.  iv.— n        ad) 


242  LIFE  AND   LETTERS  [1855. 

claimed.  '  I  saw  his  dark  eye  sweerjing  back  upon 
nie.' 

"  I  was  at  John  Howard  Payne's,  near  Corlier's 
Hook,  the  night  of  Cooke's  arrival  in  New  York.  I 
was  there  by  invitation,  to  meet  him.  Cooke  came  in 
a  little  flustered  with  drink.  Was  very  much  exasper- 
ated at  the  detention  at  the  Custom  House  of  some 
silver  cups,  possibly  presents,  he  had  brought  with 
him,  and  would  break  forth,  every  now  and  then,  with, 
'  "Why  did  they  keep  my  cups  ?  They  Tcnew  they 
would  melt!'  with  significant  emphasis.  He  was 
harsh  and  abusive  when  drunk,  but  full  of  courtesy 
when  sober."  Mr.  Irving  dwelt  upon  "  the  easy  jol- 
lity "  with  which  he  played  Falstaff.  "  Hodgkinson  " 
[whom,  probably,  some  living  may  yet  remember  on 
the  boards  of  the  old  Park  Theatre]  "  was  a  little 
fustian  in  tragedy,  but  capital  in  comedy  and  farce. 
He  was  finer  than  Cooper  in  Petruchio.  Cooper  was 
harsh.  With  Hodgkinson,  you  could  '  see  the  fun  at 
the  bottom '  of  his  treatment  to  Catherine." 

I  asked  which  he  preferred  —  John  Kemble,  or 
Cooke  ? 

"  Kemble  had,  perhaps,  more  the  sympathy  of  his 
audience,  because  he  played  nobler  characters — Cooke, 
the  villains  ;  but,  in  his  range,  which  was  limited,  he 
was  the  greatest  actor." 

Speaking  afterward  of  artists,  he  remarked  :  "  Jar- 
vis  tried,  but  failed  to  embody  my  conception  of  Die- 
drich  Knickerbocker.     Leslie  also.     Darley  hit  it  in 


jEt.  72.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  243 

the  illustrated  History  of  New  York.  My  idea  was 
that  he  should  curry  the  air  of  one  profoundly  im- 
pressed with  the  truth  of  his  own  History. 

"  Allston  was  always  the  gentleman.  Would  talk 
by  the  hour.  Liked  to  talk.  A  capital  teller  of  ghost 
stories.  Would  act  them  with  voice,  eyes,  gesture. 
Had  touches  of  gentle  humor.  Rather  indolent. 
Would  lie  late  in  bed.  Smoked  segars.  A  man  of 
real  genius.  A  noble  painter.  It  was  a  pity  he  came 
back  [in  1818]  ;  he  would  have  risen  to  the  head  of  his 
art — been  the  greatest  painter  of  his  day." 

The  foregoing,  and  the  anecdotes  which  follow,  I 
give  from  rough  notes  made  at  the  time. 

March  23d,  1858  (still  at  Sunny  side). — Mr.  Irving' 
mentioned,  after  breakfast,  a  dream  of  the  night  before, 
that  he  had  killed  one  of  the  little  birds  that  had  com- 
menced singing  about  the  cottage,  and  his  waking  in 
great  distress  in  consequence,  and  lighting  his  lamp  to 
read  off  the  effect.  Had  shot  many  a  robin  when  a 
youngster ;  and,  when  they  were  skipping  about  the 
cottage,  often  thought  with  compunction  how  many  of 
their  ancestors  he  had  killed.  "  Oh,  nncle !  "  ex- 
claimed a  niece,  u  how  could  you  ever  shoot  those 
innocent  little  things  !  "  "  Well,  my  dear,  it  wasn't 
the  same  robins  that  covered  the  babes  in  the 
wood." 

March  27th,  1S58. — He  came  down  to  the  city  for 
the  day,  in  good  health.  Entered  my  office  half  past 
one,  chuckling  at  the  idea  of  his  having  just  left  the 


24-4  LIFE  AN]D  LETTERS  [1855. 

Astor  Library  with  a  volume  in  his  pocket  lie  was 
using  in  his  Life  of  Washington,  and  for  once  circum- 
vented his  friend  Cogswell,  the  librarian. 

April  3d,  1858,  was  his  seventy-fifth  birthday, 
and  a  family  party  was  assembled,  as  usual,  to  cele- 
brate it.  It  was  a  bright,  beautiful,  genial  day.  He 
was  in  line  spirits,  serenely  cheerful.  Spoke  of  his 
happiness  at  feeling  so  well  on  his  seventy-fifth  birth- 
day, when  a  little  before  he  had  been  troubled  with 
asthma  and  difficulty  of  breathing,  and  had  begun  to 
feel  that  "  he  had  got  his  ticket "  for  the  other  world. 

Soon  after  breakfast  came  baskets  of  flowers,  and 
various  other  birthday  offerings  from  the  neighbor- 
hood. Later  in  the  day,  different  friends  dropped  in 
with  their  congratulations.  Altogether,  the  day  passed 
off  delightfully — nothing  to  mar  it. 

April  17th,  1858.— A  Mr.  T ,  from  the  centre 

of  Ohio,  called  at  the  cottage,  as  he  stated,  "  simply  to 
see  Washington  Irving  before  his  return."  He  brought 
a  letter  from  Horace  Greeley,  saying  that  he  was  no 
author,  and  only  curious  to  have  a  look  at  him.  Made 
a  short  visit,  and  proved  to  be  a  very  good  fellow. 
Began  by  telling  Mr.  Irving  his  first  fondness  for  read- 
ing dated  from  Knickerbocker's  New  York.  Showed 
no  great  inclination  that  way  until  his  schoolmaster 
set  him  down  to  that.  "  And  that,"  said  Mr.  Irving, 
"  begot  a  taste  for  history."  The  visitor  being  con- 
nected with  railroads,  Mr.  Irving  spoke  of  the  wonder- 
ful   rapidity   of    locomotion    nowadays.      "  Travellers 


jEt.  75.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  245 

now  walked  Broadway  with  the  dust  of  the  prairies  on 
their  boots."     "  Yes,  literally,"  said  his  auditor. 

1  follow,  with  a  letter  to  Mr.  Bancroft,  on  receipt 
of  a  fresh  volume  of  his  History  : 

Scnnvside,  May  17,  1858. 

My  dear  Bancroft  : 

I  have  delayed  acknowledging  the  receipt  of  your  volume 
until  I  should  have  read  it  through.  I  now  thank  you  heartily 
for  your  kindness  in  sending  it  to  me.  The  interest  with  which 
I  have  devoured  it,  notwithstanding  the  staleness  of  the  sub- 
ject with  me,  is  a  proof  that  you  have  told  the  story  well.  I 
was  charmed  with  the  opening  of  your  volume  :  the  political 
state  of  England  and  France ;  the  decadence  of  the  French 
nobility  ;  the  characters  of  the  French  monarchs  ;  the  beautiful 
sketch  of  Marie  Antoinette ;  then  the  transition  to  sober, 
earnest  Xcw  England — the  "  meeting  of  the  nine  committees  " 
(p.  35),  "  the  lowly  men  accustomed  to  feed  their  own  cattle, 
to  fold  their  own  sheep,  to  guide  their  own  plough — all  trained 
to  public  life  in  the  little  democracies  of  their  towns,'1'1  &c,  &c. 
How  graphic  !  how  suggestive  !   how  true  ! 

I  see  you  place  Samuel  Adams  in  the  van  of  the  Revolu- 
tion, and  he  deserves  the  place.  He  was  the  apostle  of  popu- 
lar liberty,  without  a  thought  of  self-interest  or  self-glorifica- 
tion. 

There  is  capital  management  throughout  all  the  chapters 
treating  of  the  New  England  States,  wherein  you  go  on  build- 
ing up  the  revolutionary  fire  stick  by  stick,  until,  at  last,  you 
set  it  in  a  blaze. 

You  have  a  mode  of  individualizing,  if  I  mav  so  use  the 
word,  which  gives  great  spirit  and  a  dramatic  effect  to  your 


246  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1858. 

narration.  You  make  brief  citations  from  speeches,  letters,  or 
conversations,  which  stamp  the  characters,  reveal  the  motives, 
or  express  the  actions  of  the  persons  concerned.  So  also  with 
regard  to  States,,  cities,  villages,  communities — they  are  made 
to  take  a  part  in  the  drama  by  "  word  of  mouth,"  as  it  were, 
thus  saving  a  world  of  detail  and  circumlocution. 

In  this  way,  by  turns,  you  vocalize  the  whole  Union,  and 
make  the  growing  chorus  of  the  Revolution  rise  from  every 
part  of  it.  I  hope  you  will  make  out  what  I  mean  to  say  ;  for 
I  consider  what  I  attempt  to  designate,  a  capital  quality  in 
your  work  of  narrating. 

I  am  delighted  with  the  tribute  you  pay  to  the  noble  policy 
of  Chatham,  and  the  cold  charity  which  you  dispense  to  Lord 
North.  "  Lord  North  was  false  only  as  he  was  weak  and  un- 
certain. He  really  wished  to  concede  and  conciliate,  hut  he 
had  not  force  enough  to  come  to  a  clear  understanding  with  him- 
self." You  have  given  me  a  hearty  laugh  at  the  expense  of 
poor  Lord  North. 

In  a  word,  my  dear  Bancroft,  I  congratulate  you  upon  the 
manner  in  which  you  have  executed  this  volume.  I  have 
found  it  animated  and  spicy  throughout,  and  take  it  as  an 
earnest  of  the  style  in  which  you  are  to  accomplish  the  history 
of  a  revolution  "  destined  on  every  side  to  lead  to  the  solution 
of  the  highest  questions  of  state." 

With  best  regards  to  Mrs.  Bancroft,  yours,  very  faithfully, 

"Washington  Irving. 

The  following  letter,  with  the  explanation  which 
precedes  it,  was  received  from  Professor  Francis  Lie- 
ber,  of  Columbia  College,  New  York.     As  the  subject 


jEt.75.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  247 

is  curious,  and  may  interest  the  reader3  I  give  it  in 
full : 

The  letter  of  Irving,  of  which  a  copy  is  sent  here,  was 
written  in  reply  to  an  inquiry  made  by  Dr.  Lieber.  Oscar 
Peschel  states,  in  his  History  of  the  Age  of  Discoveries,  Stutt- 
gart, 1848,  that  "Columbus  brooded  over  the  prophesying  song 
of  the  chorus  in  the  Medea  of  Seneca."  The  words  of  the 
chorus  are : 

"  Vcnicnt  annis  srccula  seris 
Quibus  Occanus  vincula  rerum 
Laxct,  ct  ingens  pateat  tellus, 
Tethysque  novos  dclegat  orbes, 
Nee  sit  terris  Ultima  Thule." 

[Distant  the  age,  but  surely  it  will  come, 
When  he — Oceanus — fettering  all  things, 
Yields,  and  the  vast  earth  lieth  before  man,   . 
Tethys  unveils  that  world,  yet  unknown, 
And  no  more  an  Ultima  Thule.] 

Peschel,  generally  accurate  and  cautious,  gives  no  authority 
for  the  assumption  that  Columbus  knew  this  remarkable  pas- 
sage ;  and  Dr.  Lieber  had  asked  Irving  whether  he  knew  of 
any.  The  first  portion  of  Irving's  letter  refers  to  this  inquiry. 
The  latter  portion  of  the  letter  has  reference  to  the  fact  that 
Dr.  Lieber,  considering,  as  he  does,  William  of  Nassau  and 
"Washington  akin  in  character,  has  hanging  against  the  wall  of 
his  entry  a  frame  surrounding  the  portraits  of  the  two  great 
men,  placed  in  close  connection.  Over  them  is  the  sign  used 
by  astronomers  for  a  double  star  ;  under  them  is  written,  Stella 
Duplex.     Around  the  portrait  of  William  is  his  own  motto : 


248  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1858. 

Scevis  tranquillus  in  unclis.  Around  that  of  "Washington,  the 
owner  had  the  words  inscribed,  Justus  et  tenax,  Washington 
never  having  selected  a  motto  for  himself.  It  was  aesthetically 
necessary  to  place  a  sentence  corresponding  in  place  to  the 
beautiful  one  of  William. 

Sunnyside,  June  3,  1858. 

My  dear  Sir  : 

*  *  *  I  am  not  aware  of  any  authority  for  the  fact 
stated,  as  you  say,  by  Peschel  (whose  work  I  have  not  seen), 
that  Columbus  "  brooded  over  the  prophesying  song  of  the 
chorus  in  the  Medea  of  Seneca."  I  don't  recollect  that  it  is 
adverted  to  by  Fernando  Columbus,  when  furnishing  the 
grounds  of  his  father's  belief  of  the  existence  of  land  in  the 
West.  Nor  is  there  any  mention  of  it  by  Columbus  himself. 
The  assertion  of  Peschel  may  have  been  made  on  what  he  con- 
sidered a  strong  probability. 

I  am  sorry  Putnam  could  not  have  furnished  an  engraved 
likeness  of  Washington  that  would  have  matched  more  com- 
pletely with  the  one  you  possess  of  William  the  Silent.  Your 
idea  of  placing  the  likenesses  of  these  illustrious  men,  so  simi- 
lar in  character  and  virtue,  side  by  side,  is  excellent ;  and  the 
motto  you  have  written  round  that  of  Washington,  stamps  his 
great  merits  at  a  blow. 

Ever,  my  dear  sir,  with  high  respect  and  regard,   yours, 

very  truly, 

Washington  Irving. 

Francis  Lieber,  LL.D.,  &c,  &c,  &c. 

May  26tk,  1858. — Mr.  Irving  came  to  town  to  take 

leave  of  the  G s,  about  to  embark  for  Europe  in 

the  Persia.     Spent  the  evening  at  his  nephew's,  I,  V. 


JEt.  75.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  249 

~W.    I was  trying  to  recall  to  his  recollection  a 

person  at  Birmingham,  whom  he  had  met  long  years 

before.     "  Don't  you  recollect  Mrs.  ,  that  lady 

who  used  to  go  to  sleep  in  the  evening  ?  "      "  Ah  !  I 
am  afraid  I  always  got  the  start  of  her." 

Mr.  Irvine's  propensity  to  unseasonable  drowsiness 
was  quite  notorious,  but  has  been  much  exaggerated. 
A  short  nap  after  dinner  was  almost  indispensable  to 
prevent  a  struggle  with  sleep  in  the  evening,  unless 
something  occurred  to  excite  him,  when  he  would  rouse 
himself  at  once,  and  be  ready  for  anything.  He  in 
reality  slept  less  than  persons  ordinarily  do.  Even 
in  his  best  health,  his  sleep  was  always  fitful  and. 
interrupted  ;  and  it  was  remarked  by  those  in  the  next 
room  to  him,  that  they  never  awoke  in  the  night  with- 
out hearing  the  turning  of  leaves  in  his  room.  He 
was  always  in  the  habit  of  reading,  and  even  writing 
at  times,  in  bed.  This  habit,  as  his  physician  re- 
marked who  attended  him  in  his  last  illness,  no  doubt 
increased  the  difficulty  of  relieving  that  sleepless  ner- 
vousness under  which,  as  we  shall  see,  he  suffered  so 
distressingly  during  the  last  year  of  his  life. 

Toward  the  middle  of  June,  Mr.  Irving  came  to 
town,  and  called  at  my  office.  He  was  rather  out  of 
sorts.  Had  not  been  able  to  touch  pen  to  paper  for 
three  weeks.  Was  worried  that  his  publisher  had 
stated,  in  some  circular,  that  the  fifth  volume  of  the 
Life  of  "Washington  would  be  ready  in  the  autumn. 
Seemed  half  dubious  whether  he  would  ever  publish  a 


250  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1S58. 

fifth  volume.  I  reminded  him  of  Dr.  Johnson's  remark, 
that  a  man  could  write  at  any  time,  if  he  only  set  him- 
self doggedly  to  it ;  but  he  said  it  was  not  so  with  him, 
and  particularly  for  the  effects  he  was  now  seeking. 
Must  bide  his  time. 

Five  or  six  weeks  after  this,  I  was  at  the  cottage. 
Mr.  Irving,  in  speaking  of  his  Life  of  Washington, 
said  he  considered  the  labor  of  the  closing  volume  in 
a  measure  done.  The  thing  now  was  to  give  effects, 
graces.  Could  not  create  exciting  detail  for  the  vol- 
ume. Could  not  make  Washington  come  on  the  stage, 
and  fire  off  a  gun,  as  Charles  Kemble  did  in  his  alter- 
ation of  Richelieu.  "  My  object  now  is  to  throw  in  an 
occasional  touch  here  and  there,  as  painters,  after  they 
have  hung  up  their  pieces  for  exhibition,  sometimes 
.  give  their  greatest  effects  by  a  few  dabs  of  the  brush." 
He  added  :  "  I  must  deal  cautiously  with  the  party 
questions.  I  wish  to  stand  in  my  history  where  Wash- 
ington stood,  who  was  of  no  party." 

Walked  out  with  him  to  the  pond.  Ducks  swim- 
ming in  it,  with  fourteen  young.  Spoke  of  the  diffi- 
culty of  raising  the  brood.  "  What  with  the  rats,  the 
snapping  turtles,  and  their  cursed  cruelties  toward  one 
another's  young,  it  was  very  hard."  Just  then  one  of 
the  old  ducks  turned  round,  and  made  an  assault  upon 
the  young  of  another,  pecking  it,  and  thrusting  its 
head  under  water.  "  Look  at  that,  now — look  at  that ! 
I  should  like  to  have  that  fellow  here,  and  wring  his 
neck  for  him." 

Vol.  IV.— 11* 


Mi.  75.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING  251 

The  following  extract  is  from  a  letter  to  a  young 
niece  travelling  in  Europe,  who  had  written  him  a  very- 
pleasant  account  of  her  tour,  and  whose  residence  in 
the  country  adjoined  his  own : 

[To  Miss  Julia  I.  Grinnell.~\ 

Sunntsidb,  Sept,  2, 1858. 

My  dear  Julia  : 

****** 

By  all  your  accounts,  you  have  had  uncommonly  propitious 
weather  throughout  your  tour  in  England,  Scotland,  and  Ire- 
land, and  have  heen  ahle  to  hring  off  in  your  minds  delightful 
pictures  of  scenery  and  places.  Sightseeing  is  at  times  rather 
fatiguing  and  exhausting ;  hut  the  fatigue  is  amply  repaid  by 
the  stock  of  recollections  hung  up  in  one's  mental  picture 
gallery. 

"While  the  world  is  turning  rapidly  with  you,  who  are  con- 
tinually on  the  move,  with  us  who  remain  at  home  it  seems  to 
be  almost  standing  still.  *  *  *  It  is  quite  mournful  to 
look  at  your  deserted  mansion,  with  the  flowering  vines  clam- 
bering about  the  columns,  and  no  one  at  home  to  enjoy  their 
beauty  and  fragrance. 

We  miss  the  evening  gun  of  the  yacht,  as  it  returns  from 
town.  The  Fourth  of  July  would  have  been  a  triste  day,  had 
there  not  been  fireworks  in  the  evening  at  Mr. 's.  Arch- 
ery is  at  an  end  ;  there  is  no  more  gathering  on  the  lawn  ;  the 
bows  are  unstrung,  the  arrows  sleep  in  their  quivers,  and  the 
green  bodices  of  the  fair  archers  are  motheaten. 

I  do  not  know  what  would  have  become  of  us  all,  and 
whether  we  should  not  have  sunk  into  the  spell-bound  oblivion 
of  Sleepy  Hollow,  if  we  had  not  been  suddenly  roused  from 


252  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1858, 

our  apathy  by  the  laying  of  the  Atlantic  Cable.  This  has 
thrown  the  whole  country  into  one  of  those  paroxysms  of  ex- 
citement to  which  it  is  prone.  Yesterday  was  the  day  set 
apart  for  everybody  throughout  the  Union  to  go  crazy  on  the 
subject.  New  York,  you  may  be  sure,  was  the  craziest  of 
cities  on  the  occasion.  I  went  down  to  town  early  in  the 
morning,  and  found  it  already  in  a  ferment,  and  boiling  over, 
for  all  the  country  had  poured  into  it.  But  I  refer  you  to  the 
newspapers,  which  you  will  undoubtedly  see,  for  ample  ac- 
counts of  the  civic  rejoicings,  which  threw  all  former  New 
York  rejoicings  in  the  shade. 

I  find  my  sheet  is  full,  so  I  will  conclude  this  scrawl,  which 
can  hardly  be  called  anything  more  than  an  apology  for  a  let- 
ter.    Tell  I I  will  answer  his  most  acceptable  letter  on 

another  occasion.  Give  my  love  to  father,  mother,  and  Fannie, 
and  believe  me,  my  dear,  dear  Julia,  your  affectionate  uncle, 

"Washington  Irving. 

September  \%th. — I  visited  the  cottage,  on  my  re- 
turn from  a  month's  excursion,  during  which  time  I 
had  not  seen  Mr.  Irving.  I  asked  him  if  he  had  been 
writing  much  at  his  fifth  volume  during  my  absence. 
"  No  ;  I  have  been  spell  bound — have  taken  things  to 
pieces,  and  could  not  put  them  together  again."  He 
had  been  suffering  very  much  for  the  last  few  days  by 
a  return  of  his  catarrh. 

On  the  18th,  though  still  very  much  troubled  with 
catarrh,  cough  at  night,  and  difficult  respiration,  he 
told  me  he  had  been  able  to  write  a  little.  "  I  have  to 
watch  for  a  flaw — a  little  breeze,  then  spread  my  sails, 


Mr.  75.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  253 

and  get  on."  He  gave  me  the  first  six  chapters,  some 
of  "which  he  had  been  taking  to  pieces  and  put  to- 
gether again.  I  read  them,  and  recommended  some 
rejections,  to  which  he  acceded. 

Told  me  he  had  got  through  the  labor  of  con- 
structing his  fifth  volume,  but  wanted  to  handle  cer- 
tain parts.  Sometimes  the  way  in  which  a  thing 
should  be  done  flashed  upon  him  as  he  was  going  to 
bed,  and  he  could  not  recall  it  the  next  morning. 
When  in  the  mood,  everything  came  easy  ;  when  not, 
the  devil  himself  could  not  make  him  write. 

September  30th. — Mr.  Irving  came  in  town  to  re- 
main a  few  days.  In  the  evening  wrent  to  Laura 
Keene's  Theatre,  to  see  young  Jefferson  as  Goldfinch 
in  HolcrofVs  comedy  of  the  Eoad  to  Kuin.  Thought 
Jefferson,  the  father,  one  of  the  best  actors  he  had  ever 
seen  ;  and  the  son  reminded  him,  in  look,  gesture,  size, 
and  make,  of  the  father.  Had  never  seen  the  father  in 
Goldfinch,  but  was  delighted  with  the  son. 

The  next  morning  I  called  on  him  just  after  break- 
fast. His  catarrh  not  troublesome,  but  a  disposition  to 
cough  in  the  throat.  To  an  inquiry  about  his  health, 
"Had  a  streak  of  old  age.  Pity,  when  we  have 
grown  old,  we  could  not  turn  round  and  grow  young 
again,  and  die  of  cutting  our  teeth." 

He  spoke  of  his  anxiety  about  his  fifth  volume. 
Would  like  to  dress  up  some  things.  Could  see  how 
they  ought  to  be  done,  but  lacked  the  power  to  do  it. 
Could  not  "mount  his  horse."      I  said  he  saw  what 


254  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  •  [1858. 

effects  might  be  given,  but  others  would  not.  Yes, 
he  replied ;  it  was  a  consolation  to  think  the  reader 
did  not  see  what  he  saw. 

Some  days  after,  he  gave  me  twenty-one  chapters 
of  the  fifth  volume  of  his  Life  of  Washington  to  read. 
In  the  twentieth  was  the  account  of  Genet's  reception 
at  ]S"ew  York.  I  asked  him  if  some  of  the  particulars 
were  not  from  his  own  recollection  as  a  boy.  "  Yes ; 
remembered  following  Genet  down  Wall  street,  and 
envying  a  little  boy  who  had  a  feather  stuck  in  the 
side  of  his  hat."  Told  me  the  remaining  chapters 
would  need  very  little  handling. 

Monday,  October  Wih. — Mr.  Irving  returned  home, 
Mrs.  I.  and  myself  accompanying  him  on  a  visit  to 
the  cottage.  He  had  given  me,  the  day  before,  the 
concluding  chapters  of  his  fifth  volume  to  read.  He 
was  still  very  much  troubled  with  catarrh  and  short- 
ness of  breath,  though  his  disposition  to  cough  had 
yielded  somewhat  to  a  medical  prescription.  The  next 
day  he  had  no  appetite  at  breakfast,  but  was  heavy 
and  languid.  In  the  evening  was  still  out  of  sorts,  and 
apparently  feverish,  complaining  of  heat  in  his  head. 
The  following  morning  I  went  to  the  city  for  his  phy- 
sician, Dr.  John  C.  Peters,  who  left  for  Stinnyside  in 
the  ten-o'clock  train.  As  I  was  called  to  attend  the 
funeral  of  a  relative  at  Hyde  Park  on  that  day,  I  did 
not  get  back  until  ten  at  night,  when  I  found  Mr. 
Irving  had  a  high  fever,  and  was  in  bed.  The  doctor 
returned  at  midnight,  and  remained  until  the  next 


^Et.  75.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  255 

morning.  He  pronounced  it  a  case  of  intermittent 
fever.  He  came  up  again  in  the  evening,  and,  when 
he  left  in  the  morning,  declared  his  patient  much  bet- 
ter every  way,  though  still  very  languid.  The  news- 
papers of  the  16th  reported  him  "  dangerously  ill." 
Allusion  being  made  to  the  paragraph  as  an  exaggera- 
tion, he  replied  that  he  did  not  know  ;  that,  at  his  time 
of  life,  such  attacks  must  always  be  dangerous  ;  that 
he  was  fully  aware  of  it ;  that,  at  farthest,  his  time 
would  not  be  long,  but  his  only  anxiety  was  to  retain 
his  mental  powers  while  he  did  last  •  that,  at  the  com- 
mencement of  this  illness,  and  for  the  week  before,  his 
head  had  felt  so  badly,  he  was  apprehensive  he  might 
have  injured  himself  seriously  in  his  endeavors  to 
finish  this  fifth  volume  ;  that  the  pitcher  might  have 
gone  once  too  often  to  the  well.  This,  he  said,  was  a 
source  of  real  anxiety  to  him,  far  more  than  any  pain 
or  illness  could  cause.  "  I  do  not  fear  death,"  said  he  ; 
"  but  I  would  like  to  go  down  with  all  sail  set." 

In  less  than  fourteen  months,  his  pathetic  aspiration 
was- to  be  fulfilled. 

October  20th,— -Mr,  Irving  drove  out  for  the  first 
time  since  his  illness,  leaving  me  occupied  in  going 
over  the  last  volume  of  his  Life  of  Washington.  I 
discovered  that  he  had  omitted  a  notice  of  Washing- 
ton's consent  to  be  a  candidate  a  second  time.  On 
calling  his  attention  to  it,  he  said  he  had  written  an 
account  of  it,  which  must  have  got  mislaid.  I  told 
him  it  would  come  in  at  the  end  of  Chapter  XY,  and 


256  MFE  AND  LETTERS   "  [1858. 

he  took  a  note  of  it.  The  next  day  he  showed  me  a 
missing  chapter,  which  contained  what  I  had  feared 
was  omitted.  He  had  been  rummaging  for  it,  and  it 
was  the  last  thing  he  had  come  upon.  In  the  bewil- 
derment of  his  brain  previous  to  his  illness,  he  had 
paged  the  work  consecutively  with  this  chapter  left 
out. 

Mr.  Irving  had  now  quite  recovered  from  his 
attack,  though  he  was  still  troubled  with  a  distressing 
cough,  which  came  on  as  soon  as  he  laid  down,  and 
kept  him  awake  for  the  greater  part  of  the  night.     At 

breakfast,  one  morning,  H was  speaking  of  some 

person's  illness.  "  Does  he  cough  at  night  ?  "  inquired 
he.  "  No."  "  Oh  !  then  he'll  get  along,"  laughing. 
Determined  not,  as  he  expressed  it,  "  to  be  bullied  by 
a  cold,"  he  went  to  town  that  day,  to  attend  the 
monthly  meeting  of  the  trustees  of  the  Astor  Library. 

Notwithstanding  his  cough  continued  to  trouble 
him,  and  destroy  the  comfort  of  his  nights,  he  still 
found  time  and  spirits  for  the  following  letter,  ad- 
dressed to  a  great-nephew  not  out  of  his  teens,  who 
was  then  making  the  tour  of  Europe  with  his  parents, 
and  had  written  him  an  account  of  a  visit  to  Drum, 
the  old  homestead  conveyed  by  Bruce  to  his  progeni- 
tor, and  still  held  by  the  family.  I  should  scruple  to 
give  the  letter  entire,  on  account  of  its-  delicate  enco- 
mium upon  the  youthful  party  to  whom  it  is  addressed, 
were  it  not  that,  as  a  whole,  it  presents  so  true  an 
image  of  the  writer's  own  heart,  his  tender  symapthy 


JEt.  7C]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  257 

with  the  young,  and  the  ennobling  influence  which  he 
sought  to  inspire  in  his  communion  with  them. 

\To  Irving  Grinnell.~\ 

Sunntside,  Oct.  28,  1858. 

My  dear  Irving  : 

I  will  not  apologize  to  you  for  leaving  your  letter  of  July 
11th  so  long  unanswered.  You  know  my  situation — how 
much  my  poor  brain  and  pen  are  fagged  and  overtasked  by 
regular  literary  labor,  and  by  the  irregular  and  inevitable  de- 
mands of  the  post  office,  and  will  make  indulgent  allowances 
for  the  tardiness  of  my  reply. 

Your  letter  was  most  acceptable  and  interesting,  giving 
such  fresh,  animated  accounts  of  your  travels,  and  expressing 
so  naturally  the  feelings  inspired  by  the  objects  around  you. 
Speaking  of  Bolhwell  Castle,  you  say  :  "  "When  I  am  behold- 
ing any  such  magnificent  or  interesting  spot,  I  do  not  seem  to 
be  able  to  appreciate  it  enough.  I  take  it  in,  but  do  not  real- 
ize it ;  and  this  is  really  a  painful  sensation,  so  different  from 
what  you  would  expect.  I  stand  looking,  with  all  my  eyes 
and  senses  open,  and  feel  as  though  I  were  deficient  in  some 
one  faculty  which  prevented  me  from  really  appreciating  and 
enjoying  all  that  I  see." 

My  dear  Irving,  this  is  all  honestly  expressed,  and  describes 
a  feeling  which  all  hunters  of  the  picturesque  and  historical  are 
apt  to  experience  in  presence  of  the  objects  of  their  quest. 
They,  in  fact,  do  realize  the  scene  before  them,  and  the  naked 
truth  balks  the  imagination.  Those  raptures  and  ecstasies 
which  writers  of  travels  are  so  full  of  at  the  sight  of  wonders 
in  art  and  nature,  are  generally  the  after-coinage  of  the  brain, 
when  they  sit  down  in  their  studies  to  detail  what  they  have 

Vol.  IV—  (17) 


258  LIFE  AND  letters  Lisas. 

seen,  and  to  invent  what  they  think  they  ought  to  have  felt. 
I  recollect  how  much  I  was  vexed  with  myself,  in  my  young 
days,  when  in  Italy,  in  reading  the  work  of  a  French  tourist, 
and  finding  how  calmly  I  had  contemplated  scenes  and  objects 
which  had  inspired  him  with  the  most  exalted  transports.  It 
was  a  real  consolation  to  learn,  afterward,  that  he  had  never 
been  in  Italy,  and  that  his  whole  book,  with  all  its  raptures, 
was  a  fabrication.  I  think  true  delight  in  these  matters  is  apt 
to  be  quiet  and  contemplative. 

I  was  very  much  interested  by  your  account  of  your  visit 
to  Drum,  the  old  "  Stamm  haus,"  as  the  Germans  express  it, 
of  the  Irving  family.  I  should  have  liked  to  have  been  of 
your  party  on  that  occasion,  having  a  strong  curiosity  about 
that  old  family  nest,  ever  since  the  Scotch  antiquaries  have 
traced  my  origin  to  an  egg  hatched  out  of  it  in  days  of  yore. 

In  going  to  town,  yesterday,  I  had  beside 

me  in  the  railroad  cars,  and  he  gave  me  an  account  of  letters 
just  received  from  some  of  your  party,  by  which  I  found  you 

were  all  safe  in  Paris,  and  in  daily  communion  with  the s, 

■ s,   &c.     "What  a  joyous   meeting  it  must  have  been ! 


"What  a  relish  of  home  it  must  have  given  you  all !     ,  I 

have  no  doubt,  keeps  you  well  informed  of  everything  going 
on  in  the  little  world  in  which  you  and  he  mingled  together. 
He  is  a  worthy,  manly  fellow,  and  I  am  glad  you  have  an  inti- 
mate friend  of  his  stamp.  I  value  him  the  more  highly  from 
the  manner  in  which  he  conducted  himself  during  his  absence 
in  Europe,  and  the  frank,  simple,  unspoiled  manners  he  has 
brought  home  with  him.  And  such,  I  trust,  will  be  the  case 
with  you,  my  dear  Irving.  I  have  always  valued  in  you  what 
I  considered  to  be  an  honorable  nature  ;  a  conscientiousness  in 
regard  to  duties ;  an  open  truthfulness ;  an  absence  of  all  low 


Mt.  75.1  l)F  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  259 

propensities  and  sensual  indulgences ;  a  reverence  for  sacred 
things ;  a  respect  for  others ;  a  freedom  from  selfishness,  and  a 
prompt  disposition  to  oblige ;  and,  with  all  these,  a  gayety  of 
spirit,  flowing,  I  believe,  from  an  uncorrupted  heart,  that  glad- 
dens everything  around  you. 

I  am  not  saying  all  this,  my  dear  Irving,  to  flatter  you,  but 
to  let  you  know  what  precious  qualities  Heaven  has  bestowed 
upon  you,  which  you  are  called  upon  to  maintain  in  their  origi- 
nal purity.  You  are  mingling  with  the  world  at  large  at  an 
extremely  youthful  age.  Fortunately  you  go  surrounded  by 
the  sanctity  of  home,  in  the  company  of  your  parents  and  sis- 
ters— a  moral  halo,  to  protect  you  from  the  corruptions  of  the 
world.  I  am  confident,  however,  that  your  own  native  good  sense 
and  good  taste  will  protect  you  against  the  follies  and  vices 
and  affectations  in  which  "  Young  America  "  is  too  apt  to  in- 
dulge in  Europe ;  and  that,  while  you  give  free  scope  to  your 
natural  buoyancy  of  spirit,  you  will  maintain  that  frank, 
manly,  modest  simplicity  of  conduct  that  should  characterize 
the  American  gentleman. 

I  wish  I  could  write  you  a  more  interesting  letter;  but 
this,  such  as  it  is,  is  scrawled  with  some  difficulty,  for  I  am  just 
recovered  from  a  fit  of  illness,  and  am  little  fitted  for  the  exer- 
cise of  the  pen. 

God  bless  you,  my  dear  Irving,  and  bring  you  home  to  us 
with  a  mind  stored  with  profitable  and  delightful  recollections, 
manners  improved  and  refined  by  travel,  and  a  heart  unspotted 
by  the  world.  Your  affectionate  uncle, 

Washington  Irving. 


260  LIFE  AND  BETTERS  [1358. 


CHAPTEK    XYI. 

CONTINUING  INDISPOSITION— SIK  WALTER  SCOTT — BULL  FIGHTS — DREAD  OF  THE 
NIGHT— SPASMODIC  AFFECTION — LETTER  FROM  PRESCOTT— VOL.  V  OF  LIFE  OF 
■WASHINGTON  GOING  TO  PRESS— VvILKIE — HOLMES — PRESCOTT's  DEATH — REST- 
LESS NIGHTS— ANXIETY  TO   SLEEP — HIS   LAST   BIRTHDAT. 

OCTOBER  31st,  1858.— At  Smmyside.  Mr.  Irving 
still  troubled  with  his  harassing  cough.  To  an 
inquiry  of  one  of  his  nieces  how  he  had  rested  the 
night  before,  he  replied :  "  So,  so  ;  I  am  apt  to  be  rather 
fatigued,  my  dear,  by  my  night's  restP  After  break- 
fast, he  was  turning  over,  in  the  library,  the  leaves  of 
Dunglison's  Medical  Dictionary,  which  had  been  sent 
him  by  the  publisher  the  day  before.  "  A  very  good 
book  to  have ;  but  what  an  array  of  maladies  for  this 
poor  machine  of  ours  to  be  subject  to  !  One  almost 
wonders,  as  he  thinks  of  them,  that  any  should  ever 
grow  old." 

He  afterward  got  speaking  of  Sir  Walter  Scott. 
"  Oh  !  he  was  a  master  spirit — as  glorious  in  his  con- 
versation as  in  his  writings.  Jeffrey  was  delightful, 
and  had  eloquent  runs  in  conversation  ;  but  there  was 
a  consciousness  of  talent  with  it.     Scott  had  nothing 


Mt.  75.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  261 

of  that.  He  spoke  from  the  fulness  of  his  mind,  pour- 
ing out  an  incessant  flow  of  anecdote,  story,  &c,  with 
dashes  of  humor,  and  then  never  monopolizing,  but 
always  ready  to  listen  to  and  appreciate  what  came 
from  others.  I  never  felt  such  a  consciousness  of  hap- 
piness as  when  under  his  roof.  I  awoke  in  the  morn- 
ing, and  said  to  myself,  '  Now  I  know  I'm  to  be  happy 
I  know  I  have  an  unfailing  treat  before  me.'  We 
would  go  out  in  the  morning.  Scott,  with  his  brown 
pantaloons,  greenish  frock  coat,  white  hat,  and  cane, 
would  go  stumping  along.  Would  hear  him  ahead,  in 
his  gruff  tones,  mumbling  something  to  himself,  like 
the  grumbling  of  an  organ,  and  find  it  would  be  a 
snatch  of  minstrelsy.  The  '  Antiquary  '  was  the  favor- 
ite of  his  daughter  Sophia.  It  is  full  of  his  quiet 
humor.  What  a  beautifully  compounded  character  is 
Monkbarns  !  It  is  one  of  the  very  finest  in  our  litera- 
ture. That  single  character  is  enough  to  immortalize 
any  man.  Ochiltree  also  capital.  How  many  precious 
treats  have  I  had  out  of  that  Antiquary !  Howr  you 
see  Scott's  delightful  humor,  whether  grave  or  gay, 
playing  through  all  his  works,  and  revealing  the 
man  !  " 

November  11th. — Handed  me  some  chapters  of 
Volume  V,  in  which  he  had  introduced  some  new 
matter.  Hard  work,  he  said,  to  fit  it  in.  Conversa- 
tion turned  to  bull  fights.  "  I  did  not  know  what  a 
bloodthirsty  man  I  was,  till  I  saw  them  at  Madrid,  on 
my  first  visit.     The  first  was  very  spirited,  the  second 


262  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1858. 

dull,  the  third  spirited  again,  and  afterward  I  hardly 
ever  missed."  "  But  the  poor  horses  !  "  some  one  in- 
terposed. "  Oh  !  well,  they  were  very  old,  and  worn 
out,  and  it  was  only  a  question  whether  they  should 
die  a  triumphal  death,  or  he  battered  a  few  years 
longer.  On  my  return  to  Madrid,  I  did  not  go  much. 
The  cruelty  of  my  nature  had  been  worn  out."  His 
conversation  was,  as  usual,  a  mixture  of  jest  and 
earnest. 

November  18th. — I  left  Sunnyside,  and  came  to  the 
city,  and  took  rooms  at  the  Clarendon  Hotel  for  the 
winter.  Mr.  Irving  came  down,  on  the  20th,  to  see 
Dr.  Peters  about  a  spasm  which  seemed  to  take  him 
after  he  had  gone  to  bed,  and  was  just  falling  asleep. 
The  Doctor  gave  him  some  prescription,  with  which  he 
returned  ;  but  on  Monday  morning  (22d)  he  was  down 
again,  having  passed  a  sleepless  night.  He  went  at 
once  to  the  Doctor,  and  then  came  to  my  room  at  the 
Clarendon.  Nearly  out  of  breath  when  he  got  there. 
He  returned  again  to  the  country,  but,  finding  himself 
still  nervous  and  sleepless,  came  to  town  a  few  days 
after,  to  pass  some  time  with  his  friend,  Mr.  Barrett 
Ames,  at  33  Lafayette  Place.  The  distressing  symp- 
toms continued,  however,  accompanied,  at  times,  with 
such  increased  difficulty  of  breathing,  as  gave  us  all 
much  anxiety.  He  stood  it  very  well  during  the  day, 
but  began  to  have  great  dread  of  the  night.  On  part- 
ing with  him,  one  night,  he  repeated  most  feelingly  the 
passage  from  Othello : 


JEt.  75.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  263 

"  Not  poppy,  nor  mandragora, 
Nor  all  the  drowsy  syrups  of  the  world, 
Shall  ever  medicine  thee  to  that  sweet  sleep 
Which  thou  ow'dst  yesterday." 

The  next  day  found  him  quite  in  spirits,  and  full  of 
conversation  as  usual.  Speaking  of  ,  a  cele- 
brated public  orator,  I  asked  him  if  he  had  ever  heard 
him.  "  Only  once.  Liked  some  parts,  but  too  apt  to 
change  his  voice  suddenly  from  low  to  loud,  giving 
evidence  only  of  the  breadth  and  brassiness  of  his 
throat.  His  voice  did  not  swell  out  properly  from  his 
theme.     Let  slip  his  thunder  capriciously." 

On  the  10th  of  December,  after  an  entirely  sleep- 
less night,  he  rose  early,  and  went  at  once  to  the  Doc- 
tor, having  been  so  strangely  affected  that  he  was 
apprehensive  of  some  impending  attack,  for  which  the 
Doctor  assured  him  there  was  no  foundation.  He 
retired  the  next  night  with  great  misgivings,  but  slept 
five  hours,  and  in  the  morning  was  very  bright.  His 
nights  continued  to  alternate  between  bad  and  good, 
and,  finding  no  improvement  from  tbe  change,  he 
began  to  long  for  his  home,  and,  on  the  18th  of  De- 
cember, returned  to  the  cottage,  accompanied  by  my- 
self and  wife,  it  being  his  earnest  wish  that  we  should 
go  up  with  him.  From  this  period  to  his  death,  we 
were,  by  his  desire,  inmates  of  Sunnyside. 

I  give  below  some  notes  with  regard  to  the  con- 
dition of  his  health,  which  I  took  at  the  time  : 

Sunday,    December    ldth.—A     sleepless     night. 


264  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1858. 

Knocked  at  the  Doctor's  room  (who  had  come  up 
in  the  seven  o'clock  train,  to  stay  over  Sunday)  at 
one  o'clock,  who  got  up,  and  read  and  conversed  with 
him  till  half  past  four,  when  he  called  me,  at  Mr. 
Irving's  request,  to  relieve  him.  I  continued  with  him 
till  he  got  up  to  shave.  Excessively  nervous  when  he 
came  down  in  the  morning,  yet  told  a  variety  of  anec- 
dotes at  the  breakfast  table.  Tried  to  arrange  papers 
after  breakfast,  and  then  was  driven  to  the  church  at 
Tarrytown  "just  for  the  drive,"  the  Doctor  accom- 
panying him.  The  fact  is,  he  was  so  restless,  as  he 
expressed  it,  he  "  did  not  know  what  to  do  with  him- 
self." After  dinner,  horror-haunted  with  the  thought 
that  he  would  not  sleep.  "Went  to  bed  at  twelve,  and 
slept  four  hours,  I  watching  with  him  at  first  till  a  quar- 
ter past  one,  and,  finding  he  did  not  awake,  lying  down 
on  the  sofa  in  his  room.  Was  bright  and  cheerful  when 
he  awoke,  and  continued  so  during  the  day. 

December  20th. — Oliver  Wendell  Holmes  and  F.  S. 
Cozzens,  of  Tonkers,  made  a  call.  Mr.  Irving  en- 
joyed their  visit — glad  to  see  Holmes,  whom  he  had 
never  met  before,  but  whose  Autocrat  of  the  Break- 
fast Table  he  had  been  reading  with  great  zest.  They 
stayed  about  half  an  hour.  I  was  absent  in  the 
city.  On  retiring  that  night,  soon  fell  asleep,  but  in 
a  short  time  awoke,  in  a  very  nervous  and  restless 
state.  I  read  and  talked  to  him  for  an  hour,  when  I 
lay  down  on  the  sofa  in  his  room.  At  half  past  two 
he  awoke  me  again.     Had  great  difficulty  of  breath- 


JSt.  75.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  265 

ing,  and  a  sort  of  spasmodic  affection  of  the  stomach, 
which  roused  him  whenever  he  was  falling  asleep. 

December  22d. — Amused  himself,  this  morning,  in 
looking  over  old  papers,  and  answering  letters,  of 
which  he  wrote  four  before  twelve.  Like  himself  to- 
day. 

2UK. — Full  of  fun,  humor,  and  anecdote.  Spoke 
of  children  too  wise  to  believe  in  Santa  Claus.  "  Too 
wise  to  be  happy.  When  I  was  a  child,  I  believed  in 
Santa  Claus  as  long  as  I  could,  until  they  put  snow- 
balls in  my  stockings." 

December  25th. — Christmas.  Horribly  nervous  this 
morning.  Returning  from  a  walk,  I  withdrew  to  my 
room,  but  he  soon  came  up  and  knocked  at  my  door, 
and  begged  to  be  let  in  to  be  with  me.  Was  perfectly 
ashamed  of  himself,  he  said,  but  had  a  horror  of  being 
alone.  I  Avent  down  with  him,  got  him  to  take  some 
prescription,  and  then  read  aloud  to  him,  till  he  fell 
asleep  on  the  sofa.  Said  it  was  inexpressibly  soothing. 
The  fluctuation  of  feeling  from  one  day  to  another 
seems  incredible. 

December  27th. — Horror-ridden.     H reads  him 

asleep  after  breakfast.     Starts  up  ;  goes  out  to  walk ; 
then  to  drive  to  Dr.  Creighton's,  his  friend  and  pastor, 

■with  H and  S ,  to  be  in  motion  and  escape 

from  himself. 

December  31$t. — A  good  day.  Retires  at  eleven. 
Rather  restless.  Somewhat  troubled  with  couo-h.  I 
read  to  him  from  two  to   three.     Slept  considerable 

Yoi..  IV.— 12 


2QQ  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1858. 

after  this.      Had  been  altering,  yesterday,  a  chapter 
about  Lawrence  Lewis. 

A  few  days  before,  he  had  received  from  Prescott 
— then  in  health,  but  destined  to  precede  him  by  a  few 
months  to  the  grave — the  following  letter  : 

Boston,  Dec.  28. 

My  dear  Mr.  Irving  : 

I  was  sorry  to  hear,  a  few  days  since,  that  you  had  not 
been  quite  so  well  as  usual  of  late.  I  hope  that  this  note  will 
find  you  in  better  health.  I  remember,  when  my  first  two 
volumes  of  the  History  of  Philip  II  came  out,  you  wrote  me  a 
very  kind  note  about  them.  I  have  just  published  a  third  vol- 
ume ;  and,  as  you  seem  to  have  taken  an  interest  in  the  sub- 
ject, I  have  done  myself  the  pleasure  to  send  a  copy  of  it  to 
Putnam  for  you.  I  shall  think  myself  fortunate  if  it  should 
serve  to  amuse  a  leisure  hour.  Yet,  pressed  as  you  have  been 
of  late  years,  leisure  would  seem  to  be  the  last  thing  likely  to 
be  at  your  disposal.  At  all  events,  I  pray  you  not  to  take  the 
trouble  to  make  any  acknowledgment  of  the  little  cadean,  but 
to  accept  it  as  a  proof  of  the  sincere  admiration  and  regard 
which  I  have  always  felt  and  must  ever  feel  for  you. 

Believe  me,  dear  Mr.  Irving,  very  truly,  your  friend, 

Wm.  H.  Prescott. 

The  early  part  of  January,  Mr.  Irving  seemed 
much  improved.  Less  difficulty  of  breathing  and 
nervousness.  Was  greatly  interested  in  reading  the 
third  volume  of  Prescott's  Philip  II,  just  sent  him  by 
the  author.  Thought  his  account  of  the  trampling  out 
of  the  poor  Moriscoes  admirably  done,  but  there  was 


JEn.  75.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  267 

too  much  of  it.  Better  to  have  generalized,  as  there 
were  no  grand  features.  Miserable  skirmishes  of 
handfuls  of  men.  ]No  romance  like  the  wars  when 
the  Moors  and  Spaniards  -were  pitted  against  each 
other. 

January  12th. — His  nervousness  returned.  Again 
haunted  with  the  idea  that  he  could  not  sleep.  Strange 
disease,  'which  seemed  to  want  reality,  and  yet  the 
most  distressing.  He  was  unwilling  to  go  to  his  room 
at  bedtime,  but  lay  down  on  a  sofa  in  the  parlor,  Dr. 
Peters  occupying  another  until  four  o'clock,  when  I 
relieved  him.  He  slept  about  three  hours  out  of  his 
"  den,"  as  he  styled  his  bedroom.  For  three  or  four 
nights  after  this  he  continued  to  occupy  the  sofa  in  the 
parlor  at  night,  having  a  horror  of  his  own  room. 

January  15th. — Called  me  into  the  library  to  show 
me  how  he  had  been  muddling  again,  as  he  expressed 
it,  with  the  Life  of  "Washington.  It  was  a  slight  and 
improved  change  in  the  collocation  of  some  sentences, 
taking  them  from  Chapter  X,  and  introducing  them  in 
Chapter  XI.  At  two,  he  came  into  the  library,  where 
I  was,  frightfully  nervous.  To  relieve  his  inquietude, 
he  forced  himself  to  do  some  copying.  Afterward  I 
read  to  him,  and  he  fell  asleep  temporarily.  Reading 
aloud  to  him  was  the  only  thing  that  seemed  to  quiet 
these  nervous  attacks.  The  Doctor  came  up  from  the 
city  at  five  p.  m.,  intending  to  return  at  eight,  but 
yielded  to  Mr.  Irving's  entreaty  to  stay  the  night.  He 
prevailed  on  him  to  lie  down  in  his  bedroom  at  six, 


268  L1FE  AND  LETTERS  [185ft. 

.and  lie  slept  until  one ;  and  afterward  got  a  little 
sprinkling  of  sleep,  as  he  expressed  it.  The  faithful 
Doctor  still  encourages  us  and  himself  with  the  hope 
that  this  is  only  a  morbid  condition  of  the  nervous 
system,  which  may  pass  off ;  but  I  have  at  times  an 
ominous  feeling  as  if  we  were  watching  his  decline. 
He  also  has,  no  doubt,  his  misgivings. 

]t  was  very  remarkable,  that  at  this  very  time, 
when  filled  with  dread  of  the  night,  and  anxious  that 
all  should  sit  up  very  late,  to  shorten  it  as  much  as 
possible,  he  was  never  more  delightful  in  conversation 
than  during  those  long  evenings.  The  excitement  of 
his  mind  seemed  to  increase  his  powers,  just  as  persons 
in  a  fever  are  often  more  brilliant  than  at  any  other 
time.  All  the  interesting  scenes  of  his  life  seemed  to 
pass  before  him — a  thousand  anecdotes  of  persons  and 
things  of  which  you  had  never  heard,  related  in  the 
most  graphic  manner,  and  filled,  at  times,  with  all  his 
old  fun  and  humor.  Scenes  and  quotations  from 
favorite  authors  were  constantly  presenting  themselves, 
and  were  given  with  a  depth  of  feeling  that  added 
wonderfully  to  their  effect. 

Those  evenings  were  a  perfect  treat,  though  always 
sad  from  our  certainty  that  they  boded  a  wakeful 
night. 

January  \%th. — He  came  into  the  library  at  half 
past  twelve,  and  told  me  he  had  had  "  such  a  soothing, 
balmy  morning,  to  repair  his  poor,  tattered  nerves." 
How  different  in  manner  and   appearance   from    the 


iET.  75. J  OP  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  269 

excited  state  in  which,  a  few  days  before,  he  had 
rushed  in  to  give  vent  to  his  restlessness !  The  con- 
trast was  very  touching. 

I  started  for  the  post  office  at  two,  and,  when  I 
returned,  I  found  him  in  the  library,  and  apparently, 
except  in  his  thin,  worn  visage,  as  well  as  ever.  He 
wrote,  to-day,  the  character  of  Knox,  at  the  close  of 
Chapter  I,  and  told  an  amusing  anecdote  in  his  usual 
vein  of  facetiousness.  I  am  to  put  Volume  Y  to  press 
to-morrow.  The  Doctor  came  at  five.  His  •  patient 
soon  after  fell  asleep.  Awoke  after  three  hours,  and 
told  story  of  Wilkie  playing  picture,  at  Madrid,  at 
some  fancy  ball — in  costume — putting  one  hand  on 
pommel  of  his  sword,  and  extending  the  other,  as  he 
had  seen  it  in  some  old  painting ;  occasionally  would 
"  step  out  of  his  frame  "  to  talk  to  some  one,  and  then 
go  back. 

The  next  day  continued  calm,  and  free  from  ner- 
vousness throughout  the  day.  I  gave  to  Mr.  Putnam, 
the  publisher,  the  first  three  chapters  of  Volume  V  of 
the  Life  of  Washington.  Came  up  in  the  seven  o'clock 
train  with  the  Doctor.  Mr.  Irving  had  slept  after  din- 
ner, but  was  wakeful  toward  bedtime.  A  wretched 
night.  The  Doctor  up  almost  the  whole  night  reading 
to  him,  and  administering  soothing  medicines,  until,  as 
Mr.  Irving  told  him,  it  seemed  to  him  he  had  taken 
medicines  enough  in  his  stomach  to  put  a  whole  con- 
gregation to  sleep. 

The  next  day  had  no  appetite  at  dinner,  but  told  a 


270  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1859. 

story  of  the  Irishman  who  shot  an  owl,  and  thought  he 
had  killed  a  cherubim.  Then,  with  a  sudden  change 
of  mood,  dropped  his  hands  despairingly.  Had  "  such 
a  feeling  of  dismay  come  over  him  at  the  thought  of 
the  dismal,  sleepless  night  before  him."  His  thoughts 
centred  in  the  want  of  sleep.  Went  to  bed  at  eleven, 
with  a  foreboding  that  he  would  "  sleep  no  more"  that 
night,  but  was  mistaken.  Drowsed  through  the  night, 
and  was  cairn  and  tranquil  at  morning. 

Read  "  The  Professor  at  the  Breakfast  Table,"  in 
the  February  number  of  the  Atlantic  Monthly,  just 
come  in,  and  was  very  much  pleased  with  it.  "  Holmes 
has  a  full,  rich  vein — so  witty,  and  so  much  drollery. 
Am  delighted  to  have  made  his  acquaintance."  I 
brought  up,  that  day,  the  first  proof  of  Yolume  V — 
sixteen  pages — of  the  Life  of  "Washington. 

January  24:th,  Evening. — Turning  to  me,  at  half 
past  ten  :  "  You'll  be  near  me  to-night  %  "  "  Certainly." 
"  I  begin  to  feel,  as  bedtime  approaches,  that  old  dread 
of  my  own  room  and  the  night."  "  But,"  said  one  of  his 
nieces,  "  you  ought  not  to  feel  it  to-night ;  you've  been 
sleeping  so  quietly  on  the  sofa,  you'll  have  a  good 
night,  and  will  soon  sleep  again."  "  I  know  it,  my 
dear  ;  but  there  is  no  arguing  with  these  things.  They 
are  incontrollable.  They  come  and  go  like  the  wind. 
When  you  are  all  about  me  here,  I  can  sleep  quietly  ; 
but  when  I  get  to  my  own  room,  and  you  are  all  gone, 
and  I  think  all  are  asleep  but  myself,  then  comes  over 
me  this  strange  dread  again.     You  recollect  "  (turniDg 


«Et.75.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  271 

to  me)  "  the  scene  among  the  tombs,  in  The  Mourning 
Bride  : 

'  Give  me  thy  hand,  and  let  me  hear  thy  voice ; 
Nay,  quickly  speak  to  me,  and  let  me  hear 
Thy  voice.     My  own  affrights  me  with  its  echoes.'  " 

Nothing  could  exceed  the  expressive  manner  in  which 
he  repeated  this  exclamation  of  Almeria  to  Leonora,  in 
that  passage  of  Congreve's .  tragedy  to  which  Dr.  John- 
son gave  such  high  praise. 

January  26th. — .Rather  faint  and  nervous  at  bed- 
time, but  some  preparation  which  the  Doctor  had  left 
seemed  to  have  a  good  effect.  I  took  the  "  porch 
room,"  as  it  is  called,  next  his,  to  be  at  hand,  and  he 
went  to  his  room  with  a  feeling  that  he  would  have  a 
good  night.  I  kept  awake  until  midnight,  listening  for 
a  possible  call,  and  then  fell  asleep.  At  a  quarter  past 
three  he  came  into  my  room  in  great  nervous  agitation. 
Had  not  been  able  to  sleep.  I  returned  with  him  to 
his  room,  where  I  remained  until  half  past  six,  admin- 
isterino-  to  him  some  medicine,  after  which  he  became 
composed  and  quiet. 

January  30th. — I  showed  him  the  Evening  Post, 
containing  news  of  Prescott's  death.  Had  recently 
written  to  Prescott,  after  reading  his  third  volume  of 
Philip  II ;  and  Prescott,  but  a  few  days  before,  had 
expressed  to  Cogswell  (in  Boston)  his  gratification  at 
the  letter. 

The  next  day  he  walked  out,  and  was  seized,  on  his 


272  LIFE  AND   LETTERS  [1859. 

return,  with  a  violent  spasm  of  shortness  of  breath,  the 
most  distressing  and  alarming  he  had  yet  had,  though 
it  did  not  continue  so  long  as  some  others. 

February  1st. — I  went  to  the  city,  and  came  up  in 
the  five  o'clock  train,  bringing  proof  from  page  58  to 
page  68.  Found  he  had  been  engaged  anew  upon  the 
character  of  Washington,  which  he  had  already  com- 
pleted, and  had  become  nervous  under  the  operation. 
In  the  evening  he  gave  me  the  whole  draft,  and  told 
me  to  arrange  the  pages ;  that  he  was  determined  to 
bother  himself  no  more  with  it.  I  commended  the 
resolution,  and  told  him  it  answered  as  it  was  before. 
"When  I  examined  and  arranged  it,  the  next  morning, 
I  found  he  had  improved  the  commencement.  I  put 
the  papers  together,  and  kept  them  away  from  him. 

His  shortness  of  breath  seemed  now  to  recur  at 
more  frequent  intervals.  The  Doctor  prescribed,  as  an 
experiment — what  had  also  been  suggested  by  Holmes, 
on  his  late  visit  — "  Jonas  "Whitcomb's  Remedy  for 
Asthma,"  a  teaspoonful  in  a  wineglass  of  water,  to  be 
taken  every  four  hours.     A  good  night  was  the  result. 

February  2>d. — Went  to  bed  at  half  past  ten,  ap- 
parently calm.  At  eleven  had  a  severe  attack  of 
coughing,  which  lasted  an  hour,  and  left  him  exces- 
sively nervous.  Hearing  his  indistinct  moans,  I  asked 
if  anything  distressed  him.  "  Yes  ;  this  harassed  feel- 
ing— these  long,  long,  long  hours  till  morning."  Tried 
to  read  in  Miss  Pardoe's  Court  of  Louis  XIV.  Would 
explode  upon  the  baseness,  the  despicable  meanness  of 


^Et.  75.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  273 

the  French  monarch.  More  and  more  nervous  as 
morning  approached. 

The  next  day  looked  very  haggard.  Fell  into  a 
doze  about  midnight,  which  continued  half  an  hour. 
Slept  again  until  half  past  two,  when  he  awoke  with  a 
strange  feeling  of  faintness  at  the  stomach,  as  if  he 
were  dying.  Said  to  me  he  was  just  dying,  when  he 
awoke,  stretched  forth  his  hand,  and  took  a  sip  of 
some  liquid,  which  revived  him.  "  I  would  have  been 
gone  in  another  minute." 

For  two  or  three  days  this  excessive  nervousness 
continued.  He  told  me  I  must  bear  with  him — we 
must  all  bear  with  him ;  his  state  was  a  deplorable 
one,  and  sometimes  he  knew  he  must  appear  like  a 
child.  Read  aloud  to  us — as  if  to  escape  from  him- 
self— some  scenes  in  "As  You  Like  It."  Told  anec- 
dote of  Kemble,  in  his  personation  of  Jaques,  embody- 
ing in  the  part  the  passage  descriptive  of  his  moral- 
izing about  the  deer.  Nothing  could  be  more  affecting 
than  his  struggles  against  this  overmastering  nervous- 
ness ;  it  was  so  new  to  him,  so  opposed  to  his  healthy 
and  heroic  nature— to  the  whole  character  of  his  past 
life— that  it  seemed  impossible  for  him  to  yield  to  its 
dominion. 

February  7th— A  better  day.  Was  speaking  with 
admiration  of  the  Yacht  Yoyage— "  Letters  from  High 
Latitudes,"  by  Lord  Pufferin,  which  he  had  finished  a 
few  days  before.  Wished  he  had  another  book  to  read 
by  the  same  author— such  a  fine  spirit  in  it.     Felt  still 

Vol.  IV.— 12*  (IS) 


274  LIFE  AND  BETTERS  [1859. 

more  interest  in  it  now  that  he  knew  the  author  to  be 
the  son  of  Mrs.  Norton.  Then  spoke  of  her  capti- 
vating beauty,  when  he  first  saw  her  at  the  house  of 
some  lady  of  quality,  on  his  return  from  Spain  to  Lon- 
don, in  1829. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  H and  Mrs.  S call  be- 
tween one  and  two.     Very  pleasant,  and  like  himself. 

February  \A£h.  —  The  Doctor,  on  coming  up, 
thought  him  better  than  he  had  been  since  he  was 
first  taken  with  this  nervous  excitability.  Assured  me 
he  had  no  fears  of  softening  of  the  brain,  and  hoped  to 
date  his  continued  amendment  from  that  day. 

The  next  day  continued  better.  Remarked,  in  the 
morning,  he  was  so  well  he  was  almost  frightened ; 
afraid  it  was  a  weather  breeder.  Slept  in  an  upright 
position  on  the  sofa,  after  tea,  a  couple  of  hours,  but 
no  rest  after  he  retired.  In  the  morning  was  sad,  and 
out  of  spirits  at  the  "  wearing,  wearing,  wearing " 
night  he  had  spent.  Quite  discouraged,  though  his 
asthmatic  symptoms  had  very  much  abated  of  late, 
and  his  catarrh  disappeared. 

About  two  hundred  pages  of  his  fifth  volume  of 
the  Life  of  Washington  were  now  printed.  He  wrote  * 
a  few  lines  relative  to  the  composition  of  the  Farewell 
Address — the  only  time  lie  had  touched  it  since  it  went 
to  press,  with  the  exception  of  some  passages  in  the 
character  of  "Washington. 

February  27th. — Notwithstanding  his  improvement 
in    other  respects,   his   restless  nights    continued,  his 


JEt.  75.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  275 

"  poor,  fluttering  nerves,"  as  he  expressed  it,  scarcely 
allowing  him  any  quiet.  Could  hardly  summon  reso- 
lution to  go,  at  night,  to  his  "  haunted  chamber,"  as 
he  termed  his  sleeping  apartment,  from  the  brooding 
phantoms  that,  like  Poe's  Eaven,  seemed  perched 
above  the  door.  When  I  entered  it,  at  eleven,  to  take 
my  station  on  a  sola  for  the  night,  I  found  he  was 
shunning  his  bed,  and  pacing  up  and  down  the  room 
with  great  restlessness.  He  begged  me  not  to  leave 
the  room,  but  to  "  stick  by  "  him  ;  it  was  a  great  com- 
fort to  know  I  was  there. 

The  next  day  I  took  to  the  city  two  of  the  last  four 
chapters  of  his  Life  of  "Washington.  On  my  return  to 
the  cottage,  at  five  p.  m.,  accompanied  by  the  Doctor, 
I  found  that  he  had  been  engaged  for  two  or  three 
hours  in  the  morning  on  his  last  chapters.  Wished  to 
retain  them,  to  re-dress  the  concluding  portion.  Had 
a  very  comfortable  day. 

March  9th. — Seemed  to  have  been  losing  ground 
for  the  last  few  days.  Still  held  on  to  the  last  chapter 
of  "Washington,"  though  the  printers  were  nearly  np 
to  it.  On  the  15th,  be  put  the  finishing  touch  to  it. 
The  next  clay  was  sadly  out  of  spirits.  Had  had  diffi- 
cult respiration  much  more  frequently  of  late ;  within 
the  last  day  or  two,  almost  constantly. 

March  11th. — Asked  me  if  the  last  chapter  of  the 
Life  of  Washington  was  printed  last  night.  "  Yes." 
u  Well,  I  never  got  out  a  work  in  this  style  before, 
without  looking  at  the  proof  sheets.     In  better  health, 


276  LrFE  AND  LETTERS  [1859. 

I  could  have  given  more  effect  to  parts  ;  but  I  was 
afraid  to  look  at  the  proofs,  lest  I  should  get  mud- 
dling." That  afternoon  drove  up  to  Mr.  Bartlett's,  to 
leave  with  Mrs.  B.,  in  compliance  with  her  previous 
request,  the  pen  with  which  he  wrote  the  last  words  of 
his  Life  of  Washington. 

March  18th. — I  returned  from  the  city  at  five,  ac- 
companied by  the  Doctor.  Learned  that  Mr.  Irving 
had  had  more  than  usual  of  coughing  and  labored 
breathing.  Told  the  Doctor,  on  his  leaving,  at  seven 
o'clock,  that  he  was  quite  discouraged ;  that  he  did  not 
see  that  he  was  getting  any  better,  and  did  not  know 
where  all  this  was  to  end.  It  was  the  first  time  he 
had  spoken  with  such  discouragement  to  the  Doc- 
tor. His  presence  had  generally  a  cheering  influence, 
and  we  always  remarked  that  he  appeared  better 
when  he  was  with  him,  than  at  any  other  time,  and 
often  made  too  light  of  his  symptoms.  The  Doctor 
seemed  a  little  taken  aback  by  his  desponding  tone. 
Had  three  hours  of  sound  sleep  on  the  sofa  before 
going  to  bed,  and  about  three  hours  afterward,  with 
transient  intermissions  of  wakefulness. 

March  20^. — Slept  from  half  past  three  to  four 
p.  m.,  on  the  sofa,  when  a  neighbor  called.  Great  diffi- 
culty of  breathing  when  he  left,  which  continued,  with 
spells  of  coughing,  until  bedtime.  On  taking  up  his 
candle  to  retire  for  the  night,  "  Well,  as  the  ghost  in 
Hamlet  says,  '  The  time  has  come  when  I  to  sulphurous 
and  tormenting  flames  must  render  up  myself.'  " 


Mr.  75.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  277 

March  23d. — Received  a  newspaper  from  Lewis- 
burg,  Pa.,  containing  notice  of  the  death  of  a  Mrs. 
Chamberlain,  aged  ninety,  formerly  of  New  York,  and 
a  friend  and  correspondent  of  his  sister  Anne,  who  had 
died  in  1808.  The  sister  was  alluded  to  in  flattering 
terms.  Mr.  Irving  broke  forth  into  warm  eulogy  of 
her  wit,  sensibility,  and  humor — "  delightful  in  every 
mood."  "  I  was  very  meagre,  when  a  child,  and  she 
used  to  call  me  a  little  rack  of  bones.  How  fond  I 
was  of  having  her  sing  to  me,  when  an  infant,  that 
pathetic  ballad  of  Lowe  : 

"  The  moon  had  climbed  the  highest  hill 
That  rises  o'er  the  source  of  Dee." 

How  it  used  to  make  me  weep,  and  yet  I  was  con- 
stantly begging  her  to  sing  it."  His  love  of  music  was 
a  passion  with  him  through  life. 

March  25th. — "Wrote  the  following  note — a  copy  of 
which  has  been  sent  me  since  his  death — to  a  lady  who 
had  requested  permission  to  dedicate  to  him  a  work, 
entitled  "Domestic  Annals  of  the  Revolution,"  but 
the  title  of  which  was  afterward  changed  to  "  Recol- 
lections of  the  Revolution  "  : 

[To  Miss  Lydia  Minturn  Post] 

Spnnyside,  March  25,  1859. 

Dear  Madam : 

Your  note  of  March  9th,  being  directed  to  Tarrytown  in- 
stead of  Irvington,  has  been  slow  in  reaching  me.  You  have 
my  full  consent  to  the  dedication  of  your  forthcoming  "  Domes- 


278  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1859. 

tic  Annals  of  the  Bevolution  "  to  me,  if  you  think  it  would  be 
of  advantage  to  the  work,  or  a  gratification  to  yourself.  I 
only  request  that  the  dedication  be  extremely  simple,  and  void 
of  compliment. 

With  great  respect,  yours,  very  truly, 

Washington  Irving. 


April  2d. — Received,  in  the  morning,  a  letter  from 
a  young  senior  at  Chapel  Hill,  N.  C,  telling  him  he 
had  been  so  delighted  with  his  four  volumes  of  the 
Life  of  Washington,  that  he  had  read  them  over  re- 
peatedly, and  now  wrote  to  beg  him,  not  only  for  his 
own  sake,  but  for  the  sake  of  the  country,  to  write  an 
account  of  the  Presidential  career  and  closing  days  of 
Washington  at  Mount  Yernon.  "  Here  is  a  request," 
said  he,  "  that  I  think  I  will  gratify  at  once."  The 
whole  of  the  fifth  volume  was  already  printed,  and 
waiting  only  the  Preface,  which  was  completed  that 
very  morning,  before  the  receipt  of  the  letter.  He 
spoke  sadly  of  his  condition,  as  if  he  were  failing. 
Great  restlessness  at  night,  with  brief  snatches  of 
sleep. 

April  3d. — His  birthday — seventy-six  this  day.  A 
dull,  cheerless  morning  ;  overcast  at  dawn,  and  raining 
before  seven.  After  breakfast,  he  showed  me  his 
Spanish  Chronicles  in  manuscript — Don  Pelayo,  Fer- 
nando el  Santo,  &c.  In  the  midst  of  our  conversation, 
a  bunch  of  flowers  was  brought  in  from  Robert,  the 
most  faithful  of  gardeners,  a  present  for  his  birthday. 


Mr.  7C]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  279 

Later,  a  beautiful  bouquet  from  Mrs. followed. 

"  Beautiful  flowers,"  he  exclaimed,  kk  to  a  withered  old 
man !  "  The  dinner  table  was  decked  with  the  bou- 
quet, and  the  dessert  enriched  with  various  delicacies, 
presents  from  loving  neighbors.  All  tried  to  be  cheer- 
ful at  dinner  ;  but  at  the  close,  after  a  spasm  of  cough- 
ing had  driven  him  from  the  room,  and  we  felt  the  un- 
certainty of  another  birthday  with  him  "  on  this  bank 
and  shoal  of  time,"  all  rose  from  the  table  in  tears. 

He  had  a  paroxysm  of  coughing  and  distressed  res- 
piration at  eleven,  when  he  went  to  bed  ;  but  it  passed 
off  with  the  smoking  of  a  medicated  cigarette.  He 
then  fell  asleep  for  a  few  minutes,  and  awoke  inclined 
to  be  terribly  depressed  and  nervous,  as  the  night  be- 
fore ;  "  but,"  said  he  to  me,  "  I  will  try  to  combat  it." 
He  fell  asleep  again,  and  when  he  awoke,  at  two,  he 
was  composed,  and  read  and  dozed  through  the  rest  of 
the  night  without  cough  or  labored  breathing. 


280  LIFE  ^D  LETTERS  11859. 


CHAPTEE    XYII. 

TEMPORARY  IMPROVEMENT  —  LETTER  FROM  BANCROFT  ON  TOL.  V — LETTER  TO 
JOHN  P.  KENNEDY — LETTER  FROM  WILLIAM  C.  PRESTON — REPLY — THE  HEART 
OF  THE  ANDES — MEDICAL  CONSULTATION — COGSWELL'S  ANECDOTE — RELAPSE 
— VISIT  OF  KEMBLE — DISCOURAGEMENT — LETTER  TO  H.  T.  TUCKERMAN  ON  HIS 
NOTICE  OF  VOL.    V. 

MR.  IEYING'S  health  continued  to  fluctuate. 
Throughout  the  month  of  April  there  seemed 
to  be  a  decided  improvement,  though  he  still  had,  at 
intervals,  a  return  of  his  distressing  nights.  One 
symptom  appeared,  which  gave  us  a  good  deal  of 
anxiety,  being  quite  new.  It  was  a  bewilderment  on 
waking,  which  sometimes  continued  for  half  an  hour 
or  more ;  an  uncertainty  as  to  exactly  where  he  was, 
and  an  idea  that  strange  persons  had  been  in  the  room 
— his  dreams  probably  mingling  with  his  waking.  On 
the  whole,  however,  he  seemed  much  better ;  and,  on 
the  20th,  told  me,  on  retiring  to  his  room  for  the  night, 
that  he  thought  he  could  now  get  along  by  himself; 
but,  on  my  assenting,  immediately  recalled  the  opin- 
ion, and  said  perhaps  I  had  better  remain  a  night  or 
two  longer.  Fell  asleep  for  about  fifteen  minutes,  then 
awoke,  and  had  a  deplorably  nervous  night.     He  con- 


JEr.  76.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  281 

tinued  to  improve,  however,  and,  on  the  27th,  deter- 
mined to  be  present  at  the  monthly  meeting  of  the 
trustees  of  the  Astor  Library,  but  was  prevented  by 
rain.  It  was  now  more  than  four  months  since  he  had 
been  in  the  city. 

May  1st. — Read  Henry  T.  Tuckerman's  account  of 
the  Portraits  of  Washington,  in  the  Appendix  to  the 
fifth  volume.     Pronounced  it  quite  an  acquisition. 

On  the  4th,  went  to  town,  and  returned  at  half  past 
seven,  the  better  for  the  journey.  Occupied  his  room 
alone  that  night. 

May  9th. — Received  the  following  letter  from  Ban- 
croft, in  acknowledgment  of  Yolume  Y  of  Life  of 
Washington : 

Sunday,  May  7. 

Dear  Irving  : 

Your  publisher  sent  me,  late  yesterday,  your  fifth  volume, 
to  which  I  must  entreat  you  to  add  your  autograph,  in  evi- 
dence of  the  intention,  which  Putnam  vouched  for.  I  did  not 
go  to  bed  till  I  had  finished  all  the  last  half  of  the  volume ; 
and  my  first  moment  this  morning  is  to  tell  you  with  what  de- 
light, and,  I  add  in  all  soberness,  emotion,  I  read  it.  The 
narrative  is  beautifully  told,  in  your  own  happy  diction  and 
style,  felicitous  always ;  never  redundant ;  graceful,  and  ele- 
gant. The  throbbing.?  of  your  heart  are  as  marked  and  per- 
ceptible along  the  pages  as  in  anything  you  ever  wrote.  But 
the  charm  is,  the  loveliness  that  your  portraiture  sheds  round 
the  venerable  patriot  in  his  retirement.  Much  as  I  have  read 
and  studied  about  Washington,  I  was  taken  by  the  novelty 
that  your  ever  fresh  and  warm  manner  has  thrown  about  your 


282  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1859. 

sketch.     Your  hero  dies  like  the  sun  in  his  beauty  in  a  cloud- 
less sky. 

After  reading  to  the  end,  I  began  at  the  beginning.  You 
have  charmingly  shown  Washington's  dislike  of  state ;  and 
you  have  hit  off  John  Adams's  character  in  perfection  at  a 
single  touch.  Having  had  many  letters  sent  me  about  Ran- 
dolph, I  looked  up  your  account  of  that  sad  matter ;  and  I 
think  your  statement  is  a  model  of  candor,  indicating  just  the 
extent  of  Randolph's  indiscretion,  and  no  more ;  and  I  think 
the  letter  of  contrition,  which  you  insert,  tends  to  exonerate 
Randolph  from  the  deeper  imputation,  for  it  shows,  at  bottom, 
an  honest  heart,  though  his  judgment  may  have  grievously 
erred. 

The  sketch  which  Washington  gives  of  Hamilton,  on  pre- 
ferring him  for  the  post  next  himself  in  the  army,  is  the  finest 
tribute  ever  paid  to  Hamilton's  rare  combination  of  talents. 
*  *  *  But  I  shall  weary  you  ;  only  I  could  not  delay  tell- 
ing you  how  admirably  you  have,  in  my  judgment,  combined, 
in  this  volume,  grace  of  style,  freshness,  candor,  and  all  the 
good  qualities  that  make  you  the  delight  of  your  friends  and 
the  pride  of  the  country. 

I  am  ever,  dear  Irving,  very  heartily  yours, 

George  Bancroft. 

May  10th. — Eeeeived  a  letter  from  John  P.  Ken- 
nedy, proposing  his  going  on  a  trip  to  St.  Louis  with 
the  Baltimore  and  Ohio  Eailroad  Company,  which  he 
declines,  as  follows : 


Mi.  76.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  283 

[7b  John  P.  Kennedy.] 

Sunntside,  May  11, 1859. 

My  dear  Kennedy  : 

I  have  had  to  decline  the  very  tempting  invitation  of  Mr. 
Prescott  Smith  in  behalf  of  the  Baltimore  and  Ohio  Railroad 
Company.  In  fact,  I  am  not  in  a  condition  to  undertake  the 
expedition  proposed.  I  have  been  under  the  weather  all  win- 
ter, suffering  from  an  attack  of  asthma,  and  a  nervous  indispo- 
sition brought  on  by  overworking  myself  in  endeavoring  to 
bring  my  literary  task  to  a  conclusion.  Thank  Heaven,  my 
fifth  volume  is  launched,  and  henceforth  I  give  up  all  further 
tasking  of  the  pen.  I  am  slowly  regaining  health  and  strength, 
and  am  having  my  natural  rest  at  night,  for  I  suffered  wretch- 
edly from  sleeplessness.  Within  the  last  two  or  three  weeks  I 
feel  quite  encouraged  ;  but  I  still  have  to  take  great  care  of 
myself,  for  asthma  is  constantly  dogging  at  my  heels,  and 
watching  every  opportunity  to  get  the  mastery  over  me. 

In  my  present  precarious  state  of  health,  I  can  make  no 
engagement  that  would  take  me  far  from  home ;  and  can 
therefore  make  you  no  promise  of  accompanying  you  to  the 
mountains,  or  even  of  visiting  you  at  Ellicott's  Mills.  In  fact, 
I  have  been  but  once  to  New  York  since  last  Christmas,  and 
that  was  only  a  few  days  since ;  and  have  not  been  able  to 
jollify  even  at  little  parties  in  my  immediate  neighborhood. 

Give  my  affectionate  remembrances  to  Mrs.  Kennedy  and 

Miss  Gray,   and   believe  me,   my  dear  Kennedy,   ever  very 

truly,  yours, 

"Washington  Irving. 

May  lZth. — Received  a  very  kind  and  delightful 
letter  from    Professor   C.    C.    Felton,   of    Cambridge, 


284  L1FE  AND  LETTERS  [1859. 

Mass.,  who  had  just  been  reading  his  fifth  volume  of 
the  Life  of  Washington,  and  expressed  great  pleasure 
in  the  perusal.  Read  the  letter  aloud,  and  said  it  was 
particularly  gratifying  to  get  such  testimonials  from 
such  men,  as  he  had  found  it  impossible  to  repress 
great  misgivings  with  regard  to  the  last  volume,  which 
he  had  never  been  able  to  look  at  since  it  was  finished. 
His  illness  came  on  the  very  next  day.  Indeed,  he 
was  then  unfit  to  write  ;  and  he  had  constantly  had  in 
his  mind  the  recollection  of  the  Archbishop  of  Gran- 
ada, in  Gil  Bias,  whose  Homilies  were  thought  to  smell 
of  the  apoplexy.  His  old  love  of  fun  revived  with  the 
recollection,  and  he  went  to  his  library  for  the  book, 
and  read  the  story  aloud  with  great  zest. 

About  this  time,  the  papers  had  announced  the 
death  of  Baron  Alexander  Humboldt,  at  the  age  of 
ninety-one,  with  the  following  published  card  from 
him,  dated  Berlin,  March  15th,  1859,  curiously  illus- 
trating some  of  the  penalties  of  celebrity : 

Laboring  under  extreme  depression  of  spirits,  the  result  of 
a  correspondence  which  daily  increases,  and  which  makes  a 
yearly  average  of  from  sixteen  hundred  to  two  thousand  letters 
and  pamphlets  on  things  entirely  foreign  to  me — manuscripts 
on  which  my  advice  is  demanded,  schemes  of  emigration  and 
colonization,  invoices  of  models,  machinery,  and  objects  of  nat- 
ural history,  inquiries  on  balloons,  demands  for  autographs, 
offers  to  nurse  or  amuse  me — I  once  more  publicly  invite  all 
those  who  desire  my  welfare,  to  try  and  persuade  the  people 
of  the  two  continents  not  to  be  so  busy  about  me,  and  not  to 


Mt.  76.]  OF  WASHINGTON   IRVING.  285 

take  my  house  for  the  office  of  a  directory,  in  order  that,  with 
the  decay  of  my  physical  and  intellectual  strength,  I  may  enjoy 
some  leisure,  and  have  time  to  work.  Let  not  this  appeal,  to 
which  I  only  resorted  with  reluctance,  be  interpreted  with  ma- 
levolence. 

Alexander  von  Humboldt. 

"I  met  Humboldt  often  in  society  in  Paris.  A 
very  amiable  man.     A  great  deal  of  lonhoinrnieP 

May  11th. — Mr.  Irving  bad  a  very  severe  attack  of 
shortness  of  breath,  and  was  so  sadly  nervous  in  the 
evening,  that  I  resumed,  for  the  nonce,  my  station  in 
his  room  at  bedtime.  The  difficulty  of  breathing  con- 
tinued by  turns  through  the  night.  He  got  up  and  sat 
in  his  chair  at  daybreak,  when  it  subsided.  He  then 
read  me  an  interesting  and  touching  letter  just  re- 
ceived from  "William  C.  Preston,  ex-Senator  of  the 
United  States,  his  old  travelling  companion  in  Scot- 
land, now  paralytic,  but  with  all  his  brilliant  powers 
yet  unimpaired. 

Those  nights,  when  I  look  back  upon  them,  seem  a 
strange  mingling ;  for,  between  the  paroxysms  of  dis- 
tress, he  would  seize  on  anything  to  divert  his  own 
thoughts,  or  to  relieve  what  he  feared  must  be  the 
weariness  of  those  who  were  watching  with  him.  He 
•would  read  or  relate  anything  that  interested  him  at 
the  moment,  and  so  endeavor  to  cheat  the  hours  till 
day.     I  give  the  letter  : 


286  LIFE  ^D  LETTERS  [1859. 

[William  C.  Preston  to  Washington  Irving] 

Charlottesville,  Va.,  May  11, 1859. 

My  de ab  Sir  : 

Seeing,  in  yesterday's  National  Intelligencer  (the  only 
paper  that  I  now  read),  that  you  had  been  ill,  but  were  recov- 
ered, I-  was  prompted  to  write  to  you  at  once  what  an  un- 
abated interest  I  cherish  for  you.  My  last  communication 
with  you  was  an  act  of  kindness  to  me,  in  sending  some  letters 
of  introduction  for  my  friend  Hampton,  to  Europe.  Hampton 
did  wiser  than  to  go  to  Europe ;  he  got  married,  and  keeps 
your  letters  as  precious  autographs.  Those  that  I  have  had 
from  you  have  long  since  been  begged  or  stolen  from  me  by 
piecemeal,  and  I  have  often  had  an  enhanced  consideration, 
when  it  was  known  that  I  had  been  an  acquaintance  of  Wash- 
ington Irving ;  for  I  don't  believe  that  any  man,  in  any  coun- 
try, has  ever  had  a  more  affectionate  admiration  for  him  than 
that  given  to  you  in  America.  I  believe  that  we  have  had  but 
one  man  who  is  so  much  in  the  popular  heart. 

On  reading  this  notice  in  the  Intelligencer,  I  found  in  my 
memory  (what,  for  aught  I  know,  may  be  common  to  old  men) 
a  sort  of  mirage,  which  made  distant  objects  rise  above  those 
more  near.  My  mind  at  once  recalled  Jones  of  the  Brinn  and 
Loch  Katrine,  and  it  was  only  upon  reflection  that  I  recalled 
your  visit  to  me  in  the  War  of  Nullification,  and  subsequently, 
during  our  war  in  the  Senate  against  General  Jackson.  In 
those  tumultuary  scenes  I  was  an  excited  actor,  and  fretted  my 
hour  amid  them.  The  curtain  fell ;  new  scenes  were  brought 
forward,  and  I  have  sat  exhausted  in  the  dark  recesses  of  the 
theatre,  the  pageant  gone,  and  sad  realities  about  me — sickness 
and  sorrow. 


JEr.  76.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  287 

I  had  not  thought  you  so  old  as  the  paper  announces  you 
to  be.  I  knew  you  were  somewhat  my  senior  forty  years  ago, 
but,  for  some  years,  I  have  felt  older  than  anybody  seemed  to 
me  to  be.  A  paralytic  stroke  may  well  be  counted  for  twenty 
years,  which  makes  me  eighty-five. 

What  a  noble  capital  your  Life  of  Washington  makes  to 
your  literary  column  !  The  paper  says  you  are  busily  at  work. 
I  am  sorry  to  think  that  you  are  vexing  yourself  with  further 
labors ;  you  have  fairly  won  the  privilege  of  rest.  Your  hon- 
orable labors  have  been  crowned  with  most  honorable  rewards. 
"Whatever  your  country's  love  and  admiration  can  give,  has 
been  bestowed.  I  indulge  the  wish,  therefore,  that  the  Life  of 
Washington,  which  inseparably  connects  your  name  with  his, 
may  have  no  interposing  object,  and  that  your  labors  may  be 
mere  amendments  in  minute  touches,  giving  a  more  perfect 
polish,  where,  although  the  public  eye  may  perceive  no  want 
of  it,  your  own  delicate  perception  may  suspect  it. 
I  am,  my  dear  sir,  ever,  your  affectionate  friend, 

Wm.  C.  Preston. 

I  anticipate  to  give  Mr.  Irving's  reply  in  this  place, 
though  it  was  delayed  nearly  three  months  : 

[7b  William  C.  Preston.'] 

,  r  _  Suxntside,  Aug.  9, 1859. 

My  dear  Prestox  : 

I  have  suffered  a  long  time  to  elapse  without  a  reply  to 
your  most  kind  and  welcome  letter,  but  the  state  of  my  health 
must  plead  my  apology.  For  many  months  I  have  been 
harassed  by  an  attack  of  asthma,  accompanied  by  sleepless 
nights,   which  deranged  my  whole  nervous  system.     I  have 


288  LIFE  ANL>   OTTERS  [1S59. 

had  to  give  up  all  literary  occupation,  and  to  abstain  as  much 
as  possible  from  the  exercise  of  my  pen  even  in  letter  writing. 
I  am  slowly  recovering,  but  will  have  to  be  very  careful  of 
myself.  Fortunately,  I  have  finished  the  Life  of  "Washington, 
about  which  you  speak  so  kindly,  and  now  I  shall  no  more  tax 
myself  with  authorship. 

Your  allusions  to  Jones  of  the  Brinn  and  Loch  Katrine, 
brought  up  a  host  of  recollections  of  pleasant  scenes  and  of 
pleasant  adventures  which  we  enjoyed  together  in  our  pere- 
grinations in  England  and  Scotland,  in  our  younger  days.  I 
often  recur  in  thought  to  those  ramblings,  which  furnish  some 
of  the  most  agreeable  day  dreams  of  past  times,  and,  if  I  dared 
to  indulge  my  pen,  could  call  up  many  an  amusing  incident  in 
which  you  figured  conspicuously.  But  this  scribbling  I  must 
postpone  to  some  future  day,  when  I  am  less  under  the  thral- 
dom of  nerves  and  the  asthma.  At  present,  I  merely  scrawl 
these  few  lines  to  assure  you  of  my  constant  and  affectionate 
remembrance. 

I  believe  our  present  Minister  in  Spain  is  a  cousin  of  yours. 
I  am  glad  to  hear  he  is  likely  to  prove  popular  there.  A  lady 
correspondent  in  Madrid,  well  acquainted  with  the  Court  circle, 
speaks  in  very  favorable  terms  both  of  the  Minister  and  his 
lady. 

Farewell,  my  dear  Preston.  Believe  me,  though  at  pres- 
ent a  very  lame  correspondent,  yet,  as  ever, 

Yours,  very  faithfully, 

"Washington  Irving. 

May  %3d. — Mr.  Irving  went  to  the  city,  by  special 
invitation,  to  see  Church's  picture  of  The  Heart  of  the 


Mt.  76.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  289 

Andes.  It  was  the  last  day  of  the  exhibition,  and  the 
room  was  crowded.  Delighted  with  it.  Pronounced 
it  glorious— magnificent ! — such  grandeur  of  general 
effect  with  such  minuteness  of  detail — minute  without 
hardness ;  a  painting  to  stamp  the  reputation  of  an 
artist  at  once. 

The  next  night  woke  at  two,  in  great  distress  from 
difficulty  of  breathing,  which  continued  for  an  hour 
and  a  half.  "Went  to  the  city  to  see  Dr.  Peten;,  who 
called  in  Dr.  Hosack  to  hold  a  consultation.  Dr.  P. 
sought   to   encourage    him  with   an   account  of  Mr. 

,  who  had  been  a  sufferer  with  asthma  for  forty 

years,  and  whom  they  thought  near  his  end,  of  late, 
and,  when  he  and  his  family  were  prepared  for  it,  he 
suddenly  rallied,  and  was  getting  as  well  as  he  had 
been  before.  His  only  comment  was :  "  Ah,  Doctor, 
why  didn't  you  let  him  go  ?  "Why  call  him  back  to 
such  suffering  ? " 

Mr.  Cogswell  related  to  me  the  following  anecdote : 
Mr.  Irving  called  at  his  room  in  the  Astor  Library,  not 
many  months  since,  and,  finding  him  sick  abed,  and 
alarmingly  ill,  hurried  off  for  his  physician,  Dr.  Bar- 
ker. One  of  his  jokes,  after  Cogswell  got  well,  was, 
that,  in  going  for  the  Doctor,  he  thought  he  would  just 
6top  at  the  undertaker's  on  his  way,  and  order  a  coffin ; 
and  now  he  had  the  coffin  on  his  hands. 

On  his  return  from  the  city,  he  retired,  at  bedtime, 
to  his  room  alone,  as  he  had  done  for  some  nights  past. 
The  doors  were  open,  and  perceiving,  in  the  night,  that 

Vol.  IV.— 13  (19) 


290  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1859. 

he  was  restless,  I  went  in.  The  next  morning,  at 
breakfast,  he  remarked  that  he  felt  my  coming  in  quite 
as  a  reprieve.  After  dinner,  said  to  me :  "  I  shall 
have  to  get  you  to  mount  guard  again  to-night.  I  am 
ashamed  to  ask  it,  but  you  cannot  conceive  what  an 
abject  coward  this  nervousness  makes  of  me."  I 
assured  him  of  my  readiness  to  resume  my  post. 

June  2d. — Looked  better,  and  had  a  comfortable 

day.     Drove  out  with  Mrs.  J .     On  his  return,  at 

twelve  o'clock,  found  here  his  old  friend,  Gouverneur 
Kemble,  who  had  come  to  see  him  and  urge  him  to 
make  him  a  visit.  Kemble  greeted  him  very  cordially. 
"  Why,  you  are  looking "  "  Very  badly,"  inter- 
posed Mr.  Irving.  "  But  better  than  I  expected  to 
see  you."  Kemble  stayed  to  dinner.  Mr.  Irving,  at 
parting  with  him,  accompanied  him  to  the  door,  and 
bade  him  "  good-by  "  with  a  "  God  bless  you  !  " 

When  he  returned  to  the  parlor,  his  eyes  were 
filled  with  tears,  and  he  burst  forth  with  a  gush  of 
feeling.  "  That  is  my  friend  of  early  life — always  un- 
changed, always  like  a  brother ;  one  of  the  noblest 
beings  that  ever  was  created.  His  heart  is  pure  gold." 
He  was  deeply  affected.  He  had  been,  as  he  generally 
was  in  the  society  of  those  he  liked,  except  when  in 
immediate  suffering,  very  cheerful  during  the  dinner, 
and,  excited  and  gratified  by  the  visit,  Mr.  Kemble 
could  form  no  idea  of  his  situation.  This  proved  to  be 
their  last  meeting. 

The  next  day  he  was  very  nervous,  and  sadly  clis- 


Mr.  7 O.J  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  291 

couragcd.  Said  ho  had  nearly  given  up  all  hope  of 
recovery  or  improvement,  and  only  trusted  that  he 
•would  not  be  left  a  burden  long.     After  dinner,  drove 

out  with  II .     This  depression  continued  through 

the  -whole  drive.  "  I've  always  dreaded,"  he  remarked, 
"  beyond  anything,  becoming  a  confirmed  invalid,  and 
a  burden  to  those  about  me."  "  But  you  will  never  be 
that,"  was  the  reply.  "  What  do  you  call  this  ?  I  see 
no  relief  to  it.  This  cough  prevents  my  sleeping,  and, 
with  such  nights,  how  can  I  be  better?  And  poor 
,  too — what  a  tax  on  him  !  "  "  He  does  not  con- 
sider it  so."  "  Well,"  he  rejoined,  "  I  trust  he  may 
not  have  the  burden  long." 

About  this  time,  Mr.  Irving  received  a  letter  from 
Henry  T.  Tuckcrman,  who  had  been  looking  forward 
with  special  interest  to  the  concluding  volume  of  his 
Life  of  Washington,  showing  how  agreeably  it  struck 
him,  by  the  following  notice,  which  he  enclosed  : 

The  appearance  of  the  concluding  volume  of  Irving's  Life 
of  Washington  lias  been  looked  for  with  unusual  interest. 
Varying,  as  its  subject  matter  docs,  from  what  went  before — 
shifting  from  military  to  political  interest — it  was  thought,  by 
those  cognizant  of  biographical  art,  that  it  would  prove  difficult, 
for  the  author  to  narrate  Washington's  administration  with  the 
same  simple  directness  which  lent  such  emphasis  to  the  story 
of  the  war.  But  Mr.  Irving  has  equally  succeeded  here. 
Without  swerving  from  his  original  plan,  he  has  faithfully  told 
the  facts,  avoided,  with  consummate  skill,  the  discussion  of 
mooted  questions,  kept  strictly  to  his  sphere  of  biography — 


292  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1859. 

giving  exactly  enough  about  the  French  Revolution,  alliance, 
and  difficulties,  Jay's  treaty  and  its  consequences,  Jefferson's 
intrigues,  Genet's  impertinence,  the  state  of  parties  and  the 
course  of  opinion,  as  was  absolutely  necessary  to  explain 
"Washington's  position,  difficulties,  and  conduct — and  nothing 
more.  And  he  keeps  the  hero  himself  constantly  in  view — 
treats  of  events  as  they  affect  him,  and  not  general  history ;  in 
a  word,  as  throughout  the  work,  he  makes  us  partake  of  the 
consciousness  of  Washington  more  than  the  sentiment  of  party 
or  the  theories  of  politicians.  It  is  as  the  squabbles  of  his 
Cabinet,  the  sarcasms  of  the  press,  the  events  in  Europe  influ- 
ence his  peace,  purposes,  and  feelings,  that  we  know  them ; 
and,  by  thus  rendering  domestic  and  foreign  affairs  subordinate 
to  the  delineation  of  his  great  subject,  the  harmony,  unity, 
and  clear  significance  of  the  biography  are  admirably  pre- 
served.    *     *     * 

By  the  Preface,  we  learn  that,  more  than  thirty  years  ago, 
the  Life  of  "Washington  was  suggested  to  Mr.  Irving  by  a 
famous  Edinburgh  publisher.  Its  execution  was  postponed ; 
but  the  period  which  sees  the  work  complete  could  not  be 
more  favorable  for  its  useful  influence  and  its  successful 
achievement.  It  is  a  graceful  and  noble  consummation  of  a 
literary  career  of  half  a  century — a  high  service  both  to  our 
national  literature  and  our  civic  wants — the  greatest  of  which 
is  to  keep  fresh  to  eye,  mind,  and  heart,  the  matchless  ex- 
ample herein  unfolded  in  a  spirit  and  with  a  candor  parallel 
with  its  own  purity  and  truth. 

To  the  letter  with  the  above  enclosure,  Mr.  Irving 
made  the  following  reply : 


jEt.  76.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  293 

[To  Mr.  II.   T.   Tuckerman.] 

Sunhtside,  June  8, 1859. 

My  dear  Mr.  Tuckerman  : 

I  have  suffered  a  long  time  to  elapse  without  acknowledg- 
ing the  receipt  of  your  letter  enclosing  a  printed  notice  of  my 
fifth  volume,  which  you  had  furnished  to  the  press.  My  only 
excuse  is,  that,  since  I  have  got  out  of  regular  harness,  I  find 
it  exceedingly  difficult  to  hring  myself  to  the  slightest  exercise 
of  the  pen. 

I  cannot  sufficiently  express  to  you,  my  dear  Mr.  Tucker- 
man, how  deeply  I  have  felt  obliged  by  the  kind  interest  you 
have  manifested  on  various  occasions,  and  in  a  variety  of  ways, 
in  me  and  my  literary  concerns.  It  is  truly  gratifying  to  be 
able  to  inspire  such  interest  in  the  mind  of  a  person  of  your 
stamp  and  intellectual  character. 

Your  remarks  on  my  last  volume  were  especially  inspirit- 
ing. Unnerved,  as  I  was,  by  a  tedious  indisposition,  I  had 
come  to  regard  this  volume  with  a  dubious  and  almost  despond- 
ing eve.  Having  nothing  of  the  drum  and  trumpet  which 
gave  bustle  and  animation  to  the  earlier  volumes,  I  feared  it 
might  be  considered  a  falling  off.  Your  letter  has  contributed 
to  put  me  in  heart,  and  I  accept  with  gratitude  your  congratu- 
lations on  what  you  pronounce  a  "  happy  termination  "  of  my 
undertaking. 

Ever,  my  dear  Mr.  Tuckerman,  with  great  regard,  your 

truly  obliged  friend, 

"Washington  Irving. 


294  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1859. 


CHAPTER    XYIII. 

LAST  DAYS — A  FORMIDABLE  VISIT  THREATENED — THE  CHARLESTON  MERCURY — A 
STRANGE  VISITOR— LONGFELLOW  AND  THE  ACROSTIC— BURR — THE  TRAVEL  TO 
ALBANY  IN  FORMER  DAYS — POE— CLAY — THE  CAMP  MEETING — GEORGE  SUM- 
NER— THE  IRISHWOMAN'S  SIXPENCE — VISIT  OF  N.  P.  WILLIS — OF  THEODORE 
TILTON — LAST  INTERVIEW   WITH  A  STRANGER — DEATH  AND   FUNERAL. 

I  RECUR  to  my  notes  taken  at  the  time  for  a 
brief  record  of  the  last  months  of  the  author's 
existence. 

June  13th. — A  lowering  day,  but  Mr.  Irving  again 
improving.  His  days,  of  late,  have  presented  quite  a 
contrast  to  that  wretched  3d  of  June,  and  he  has  ap- 
parently been  gaining  ever  since. 

Received  a  note  from  General  Y.  P.  Yan  Antwerp, 
of  Iowa,  and  Colonel  John  T.  Heard,  of  Massachu- 
setts, two  of  the  Board  of  Yisitors,  consisting  of  six- 
teen, now  in  session  at  the  United  States  Military 
Academy  at  West  Point,  enclosing  a  highly  compli- 
mentary resolution  to  himself,  and  proposing,  if  agree- 
able, to  call  on  him  in  a  body  the  next  day,  when  they 
should  adjourn,  to  tender  to  him,  in  their  collective  ca- 
pacity, "  the  homage  due  to  one  whose  long  life  had 


JEt.  70.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  295 

been  distinguished  by  sterling  virtues,  and  who  wore 
with  becoming  gracefulness  the  laurels  which  labors 
successfully  devoted  to  literature  had  placed  upon  his 
brow." 

Such  a  mark  of  consideration,  from  a  body  consist- 
ing of  members  from  the  different  States  of  the  Union, 
could  not  but  be  deeply  gratifying,  yet  he  was  all  in  a 
flutter  about  it.  "  I  must  stop  this  at  once  !  "  he  ex- 
claimed, and  immediately  went  to  the  library  and 
wrote  a  letter  to  General  Yan  Antwerp,  expressive  of 
his  very  high  sense  of  the  intended  compliment,  but 
pleading  his  inability  to  cope  with  the  visit,  from  long 
ill  health  and  nervousness. 

General  Yan  Antwerp  had  intimated,  in  his  note, 
that  some  of  the  Board  had  expressed  fear  that  this 
"  simple  demonstration,  not  intended  for  publicity," 
might  be  an  annoyance,  and  that  if,  for  any  rea- 
son, it  should  be  either  distasteful  or  inconvenient,  a 
private  note  to  him  would  suffice  to  explain  the 
reason. 

Mr.  Irving  was  quite  relieved  when  he  had  written 
his  note,  and  got  our  approval.  All  dreaded  the 
threatened  visit,  as  likely  to  bring  back  or  rather 
aggravate  his  nervousness. 

June  Ydih. — Gentle  and  playful — something  almost 
childlike  in  his  manner.  Asked  whose  the  passage 
that  was  running  in  his  head,  "  Fair  laughs  the  mom," 
&c.  I  showed  it  to  him  in  Gray's  Bard.  Inquired, 
then,  if  I  could  recollect  the  author  of  two  lines  that 


296  WFE!  AND  LETTERS  [1859. 

had  lingered — disconnectedly  —  in  his  memory  for 
years : 

"  She  asked  of  each  wave,  as  it  reached  the  shore, 
If  it  ever  had  touched  the  ship's  tall  side." 

They  are  very  suggestive.  I  had  never  met  them. 
Yery  cheerful  at  dinner.  "Walked  round  the  brook  lot 
in  the  afternoon.  In  the  evening  took  his  seat  in  the 
parlor,  and  opened  a  book  to  read.  Had  been  some 
time  at  a  loss  for  a  pleasant  book.  "  I'm  reduced  to 
my  favorite  author."  "  What  is  it  ?  "  is  asked.  "  The 
fifth  volume  of  the  Life  of  Washington.  I  think  I'll 
read  it  now.  I  have  not  looked  at  it  since  it  -was  put 
to  press." 

June  22d. — Mr.  Irving  wretchedly  nervous.  I 
went  to  town,  to  bring  up  Dr.  Peters  in  the  afternoon 
train.  The  Doctor  found  him  looking  much  better 
than  he  expected.  As  usual,  he  appeared  better  while 
the  Doctor  was  there,  but  more  nervous  again  after  he 
left.  He  had  a  wretched  night.  I  remained  with  him 
till  three  o'clock,  when  I  retired  for  an  hour.  On  my 
return,  I  found  him  struggling  with  one  of  those 
strange  hallucinations  he  could  not  easily  dispel.  Had 
started  up  from  sleep  with  an  impression  of  some  poor 
family  he  had  to  take  care  of.  The  impression,  or  the 
effect  of  it,  seemed  to  cling  to  him,  though  he  knew  it 
was  a  fallacy.  He  had  his  mind  and  consciousness 
perfectly,  as  he  said,  and  yet  he  could  not  shake  it  off. 
The  effect  of)  it  continued  for  an  hour.     Yery  singular. 


Mr.  76.]  Or  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  297 

June  23d. — A   necessary  engagement  taking  four 

of  the   inmates  to  town,    H remarked    to    him, 

before  breakfast,  that  S would  remain  and  read  to 

him,  and  lull  him  to  a  good  long  sleep.  "  Ah !  my 
dear,  I  wish,  indeed,  it  might  be  a  long  sleep  !  " 

June  2ith. — I  went  to  town,  and  returned  with  a 
letter  for  Mr.  Irving,  marked  "Private,"  and  post- 
marked Charleston,  S.  C.  He  did  not  break  the  seal 
that  evening,  but  the  next  morning,  after  a  restless, 
sleepless  night,  he  opened  it,  without  adverting  to  the 
postmark,  and  found  it  to  contain  only  a  newspaper 
slip  from  the  Charleston  Mercury  of  June  21st,  with  a 
linger  mark  pointing  significantly  to  the  following 
extract : 

When  a  man  sets  himself  down  to  write  history,  no  one, 
of  course,  can  deny  him  the  privilege  of  drawing  from  the 
facts  such  inferences  as  he  pleases ;  but  the  facts  themselves 
he  is  bound  to  relate  exactly  as  they  occurred.  Now,  to  apply 
the  above  rule,  Mr.  "W.  Irving  has  just  published  his  last 
volume  of  "  "Washington's  Life,"  and,  in  a  paragraph  devoted 
to  the  consideration  of  Washington's  will,  he  discourses  thus : 

"  On  opening  the  will,  it  was  found  to  have  been  carefully 
drawn  up  by  himself;  and,  by  an  act  in  conformity  with  his 
whole  career,  one  of  its  first  provisions  directed  the  emancipa- 
tion of  his  slaves  on  the  decease  of  his  wife.  It  had  long 
been  his  earnest  wish  that  the  slaves  held  by  him  in  his  own 
right  should  receive  their  freedom  during  his  life  ;  but  he  had 
found  that  it  would  be  attended  with  insuperable  difficulties  on 
account  of  their   intermixture   by  marriage  with   the   dower 

Vot.  IV.— 13+ 


298  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1859. 

negroes,  whom  it  was  not  in  his  power  to  manumit  under  the 
tenure  by  which  they  were  held.  *  *  *  Though  born  and 
educated  a  slaveholder,  this  was  all  in  consonance  with  feelings 
and  principles  which  he  had  long  entertained." 

Now,  what  says  the  will  itself?  (see  Appendix  4,  at  the 
end  of  the  volume  :) 

"  On  the  decease  of  my  wife,  it  is  my  will  and  desire  that 
all  the  slaves  I  hold  in  my  own  right  shall  receive  their  free- 
dom. To  emancipate  them  during  her  life  would,  though  ear- 
nestly wished  by  me,  be  attended  with  insuperable  difficulties, 
on  account  of  their  intermixture  by  marriage  with  the  dower 
negroes,  and  excite  the  most  painful  sensations,  if  not  disagree- 
able consequences  to  the  latter,  while  both  descriptions  (of 
negroes)  are  in  the  occupancy  [!]  of  the  same  proprietor  [!] — 
it  not  being  in  my  power,  under  the  tenure  by  which  the 
dower  negroes  are  held,  to  manumit  them." 

So  far  about  the  will.  In  order,  however,  to  show  that 
Washington  had,  long  previously  to  his  death,  and  in  direct 
conflict  with  his  education,  become  perfectly  Northernized, 
Irving  quotes — and  fairly,  too — several  letters  to  different 
friends ;  omitting,  nevertheless,  or  possibly  overlooking  one, 
which,  for  the  comfort  of  all  Northerners,  and  of  Mr.  I.  him- 
self especially,  shall  be  given — an  extract — below  : 

u  May  10th,  1786. — The  benevolence  of  your  heart,  my 
dear  Marquis  Lafayette,  is  so  conspicuous  on  all  occasions,  that 
I  never  wonder  at  any  new  proofs  of  it ;  but  your  late  pur- 
chase of  an  estate  in  Cayenne,  with  a  view  of  liberating  the 
slaves  on  it,  is  a  generous  and  noble  proof,"  &c. 

"  "Would  to  God  a  like  spirit  might  diffuse  itself  generally 
into  the  minds  of  the  people  of  this  country ;  but  I  despair  of 
seeing  it.     Some  petitions  were  lately  presented  to  the  Vir- 


Mi.  70  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  209 

ginia  Legislature,  for  the  abolition  of  slavery,  but  they  could 
scarcely  obtain  a  keadixg." 

Query :  Will  not  a  perusal  of  the  above  extracts  very 
effectually  convince  any  one,  capable  of  the  "  combination  of 
two  ideas,"  that  Washington  was  in  principle  essentially  a 
Northerner — that  is,  he  was  ready,  in  order  to  advance  the 
M  glorious  liberty  and  equality  of  man  '" — ready  to  confiscate 
the  property  of — other  people — his  wife's  negroes,  for  instance 
— after  his  death,  though. 

After  I  had  finished  reading  the  extract  aloud, 
"  Did  you  ever  read,"  said  he,  "  such  an  unmeaning 
thing  ?  "  lie  supposed,  at  first,  it  was  from  a  North- 
ern paper,  and  that  some  extreme  opponent  of  slavery 
had  meant  to  impute  suppression  or  concealment  of 
Washington's  full  opinions,  when  he  thought  his  ex- 
tracts covered  the  whole  ground.  But  on  a  more  care- 
ful perusal  than  I  gave  it  at  first,  I  perceived  it  was 
from  a  Southern  source,  and  that  the  ohject  was  to 
show,  not  that  Washington  was  entitled  to  more  credit 
than  the  biography  had  awarded  him  for  his  opinions 
on  slavery,  but  was  open  to  a  grave  stigma  for  his  con- 
duct, in  directing,  by  will,  the  emancipation  of  his 
slaves.  "  As  if,"  said  Mr.  Irving,  when  I  showed  him 
its  Southern  source,  "  the  greatest  reproach  you  could 
make  against  a  man  was  that  he  was  opposed  to  sla- 
very.    Did  you  ever  know  such  fools  ? " 

Eminently  national  in  his  feelings,  a  lover  of  his 
whole  country,  keenly  alive  to  everything  that  con- 
cerned the  honor  and  good  name  of  the  Republic,  he 


300  LIFE  AND  BETTERS  [1859. 

was  not  without  foreboding  at  the  signs  of  the  times, 
and  the  disposition  evinced  in  this  instance  to  immo- 
late "Washington  on  the  altar  of  slavery,  seemed  to  him 
portentous. 

June  28^A. — In   the   afternoon,  a  call  from  Miss 

A H ,  Miss  G ,  of  Boston,  Mr.  W ,  of 

Boston,  and  Kossiter,  the  artist. "   Miss  H thought 

he  looked  very  feeble,  and  was  much  changed.  After- 
ward, F.  S.  Cozzens,  author  of  The  Sparrowgrass  Papers, 
&c,  called,  his  wife,  and  a  little  daughter  of  four  years 
of  age,  and  remained  until  half  past  nine.  Something 
was  said  by  Cozzens  about  his  sitting  for  a  likeness  to 
Mr.  Thomas  Hicks,  the  artist,  to  accompany  a  repre- 
sentation of  the  literary  class  in  some  contemplated 
grand  painting,  in  which  the  various  classes — commer- 
cial, scientific,  &c. — were  to  be  represented.  Mr. 
Irving  replied,  that  he  was  dwindling  away  so  fast, 
that  he  would  soon  make  an  excellent  subject  for  a 
miniature  for  Mr.  Hicks,  if  he  took  miniatures. 

Retired  about  eleven,  and  had  one  of  his  "  per- 
verse, wretched  nights,"  as  he  styled  them.  From 
time  to  time  would  beg  me  to  go  to  my  room.  Said 
that  there  was  a  forlorn  comfort  in  having  some  one  to 
groan  to,  but  that  I  could  not  help  him  ;  that  I  could 
only  lie  down  in  the  gutter  with  him  (alluding  to  the 
story  of  the  sot  who  said  to  a  brother  sot  in  the  gutter, 
that  he  could  not  help  him  up,  but  would  lie  down 
beside  him).  A  little  playfulness  and  fun  would  thus 
blend,  at  times,  with  his  extremest  distress. 


JEt.76.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  301 

Toward  morning  he  expressed  a  hope  that  this  suf- 
ering  might  soon  end.  "  Had  never  wished  to  live 
beyond  a  cheerful  existence.  His  life,  if  prolonged, 
might  be  of  value  to  others,  and  hence  it  was  de- 
sirable ;  but,  for  himself,  he  was  willing  to  go.  So 
singular  and  unaccountable  that  he  should  be  dis- 
tressed in  this  way  ;  had  nothing  to  worry  him  ;  noth- 
ing on  his  mind  ;  no  concern  about  his  worldly  means 
or  literary  reputation ;  had  had  honor  enough  in  that 
respect,"  &c. 

June  2dth. — I  was  reading  Mrs.  Stowe's  "  Minister's 
"Wooing,"  then  coming  out  in  numbers  in  the  Atlantic 
Monthly,  and  asked  him  his  impression  of  Burr,  whom 
she  had  introduced  in  her  story.  "  Burr  was  full  of 
petty  mystery ;  lie  made  a  mystery  of  everything. 
When  I  called  on  him,  at  Baltimore,  in  the  morning, 
on  my  way  to  his  trial,  I  must  come  again  in  the 
evening.  Five  or  six  were  in  the  room.  He  would 
take  me  in  one  corner,  and  say  a  word  or  two  ;  another 
in  another,  and  so  on.  I  met  him  again  at  Fredericks- 
burg, and  rode  with  him  in  the  stage  to  Richmond.  I 
could  not  well  make  out  why  I  was  sent  for.  From 
some  sounding  of  his,  I  suspected  he  wanted  me  to 
write  for  the  press  in  his  behalf,  but  I  put  a  veto  on 
that." 

June  ZOth. — The  Doctor  came  up,  and  stayed  over 
night.  Left  him  a  new  prescription — a  tonic — which 
had  a  favorable  effect. 

July  1th. — Just  before  sitting  down  to  breakfast,  a 


302  LIFE  A**0  LETTERS  [48J& 

stranger  called  at  the  door,  wishing  to  see  Mr.  Irving. 
The  servant  informed  him  he  was  ill — but  he  had  come 
from  a  great  distance,  and  begged  to  see  him,  if  but  for 
a  few  moments.  Mr.  Irving,  excessively  troubled  at 
the  time  with  shortness  of  breath,  requested  me  to  see 
him.  I  went  to  the  door,  and  found  a  very  ordinary- 
looking  personage  with  a  carpet  bag.  He  asked  if  I 
was  Mr.  Irving.  Net  Mr.  Washington  Irving,  I  told 
him.  He  is  ill,  and  unable  to  see  any  one.  "  It  would 
be  a  great  gratification  to  see  him,  if  but  for  a  few 
moments.  Had  come  a  great  distance.  Had  called 
four  years  before,  but  he  was  not  at  home.  Trusted 
he  might  not  be  disappointed."  I  returned  to  Mr. 
Irving,  and  reported  what  he  said.  He  went  to  the 
door,  and  invited  him  into  the  library.  The  stranger 
took  a  chair,  and  was  going  in  for  a  long  talk,  when 
Mr.  Irving  had  to  excuse  himself,  from  his  difficulty  of 
breathing.  The  stranger  then  asked  for  his  autograph. 
Mr.  Irving  informed  him  he  was  too  distressed  to  write 
it  then,  but  would  send  it  to  his  address,  which  the 
stranger  gave,  and  asked  Mr.  Irving  his  charge,  say- 
ing, "  It  is  a  principle  with  me  always  to  pay  for  such 
things."  "  It  is  a  principle  with  me,"  replied  Mr. 
Irving,  sharply,  "  never  to  take  pay." 

He  came  back  quite  disgusted.  As  he  detailed 
this  incident  at  breakfast,  one  of  his  auditors  was  re- 
minded of  an  anecdote  related  by  Longfellow,  last 
summer,  at  Nahant.  A  person  wrote  the  poet,  wish- 
ing him  to  send  an  acrostic,  the  first  letters  of  which 


JEr.  76.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  303 

should  spell,  "  My  Sweet  Girl."  "  Write  as  if  it  were 
some  beautiful  girl  with  whom  you  were  in  love — just 
as  if  it  were  for  yourself;"  and  at  the  foot  of  the  let- 
ter were  these  words,  "  Send  bill." 

Had  a  good  night,  without  attendance  of  any  kind. 
His  nervousness  seems  to  be  leaving  him,  and  his  gen- 
eral health  to  be  improving.  Looks  better.  It  may 
be  the  result  of  a  tonic  which  the  Doctor  prescribed 
about  ten  days  ago. 

July  10th. — Drove  to  church.  A  fair  appetite  at 
dinner,  and  very  playful.  "What  a  pity,  Kate,  we 
had  net  known  Louis  Napoleon  was  such  a  warrior 
when  he  took  breakfast  with  us !  We  might  have 
turned  the  conversation  on  military  matters."  The 
war  in  Italy  was  then  going  on,  in  which  he  was  much 
interested. 

A  good  deal  troubled  with  shortness  of  breath  in 
the  afternoon,  and  before  retiring.  On  the  whole,  can 
hardly  say  lie  is  gaining  ground  in  his  recovery. 
Though  free  from  nervousness  for  the  last  ten  or  eleven 
nights,  yet  does  not  seem  to  be  getting  rid  of  this  op- 
pressed respiration,  which  has  less  of  paroxysm  than 
heretofore,  but  is  more  frequent. 

July  12th. — Called  me,  in  the  morning,  from  the 
library  to  the  piazza,  to  see  "  what  a  picture  there  was 
on  the  river."  No  wind — no  tide — clusters  of  vessels 
motionless  in  front,  making  beautiful  groups — clouds 
moving  so  lazily,  that 

"  Even  in  their  very  motion  there  was  rest ; " 


304  LIFE  ^D  LETTERS  [1859. 

the  sounds  of  the  hammer  from  workmen  on  a  house 
at  the  opposite  side  of  the  river  borne  distinctly  across 
the  water.  "  That's  the  way,"  pointing  to  one  of  the 
lazy  vessels  in  the  broad  sunlight,  with  its  boom  creak- 
ing to  and  fro,  "  that's  the  way  we  used  to  travel  to 
Albany  in  former  days,  baking  in  the  sun,  and  trying 
to  keep  within  the  shade  of  the  sail.  We  thought  it 
the  order  of  things,  then,  to  roast  in  summer  and  freeze 
in  winter." 

Remarked,  at  noon,  that  he  felt  he  was  getting  on 
— getting  well.  He  had  expressed  occasional  confi- 
dence before,  during  an  intermission  of  his  symptoms, 
but  never  so  strongly.  Seemed  more  encouraged  than 
he  had  ever  been.  Spent  the  evening  on  the  piazza. 
Sturgeons  leaping  every  few  minutes.  "Was  surprised 
to  find  them  so  far  down  the  Hudson. 

July  13th. — Has  had  a  rather  nervous  and  wakeful 
night — the  first  nervous  night  in  a  fortnight.  Fears 
he  had  bragged  too  soon  yesterday.  A  thunder  storm 
began  to  gather  just  after  dinner.  He  and  I  sat  on  the 
bench  up  the  bank  for  a  while  to  watch  its  gathering. 
He  rather  disposed  to  drowsiness.  On  returning  to 
the  house,  fell  into  a  sound  sleep  on  the  sofa,  from 
which  he  awoke  just  before  tea.  At  tea,  seemed  to  be 
bewildered.  Asked  how  the  storm  came  up  ;  if  there 
had  been  any  children  there  that  afternoon  ;  had  been 
dreaming  there  were,  and  that  his  old  friend,  Leslie, 
recently  dead,  was  there.  A  strange  hallucination, 
such  as  he  had  occasionally  during  his  nervous  nights. 


.Et.  76.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  305 

July  V&th. — I  brought  up  from  the  city  Poe's 
Poems.  He  read  over  The  Raven.  "  What  a  capital 
hit  that  was — such  a  strange,  -weird  interest  in  it !  " 

II proposed  that  I  should  read  it  aloud.     "  No ; 

too  dismal  to  go  to  bed  upon."  "  I  got  one  or  two  let- 
ters from  Poe,  but  saw  little  of  him.  One  asked  per- 
mission to  use  certain  materials  of  mine  for  a  story.  I 
gave  it." 

The  next  day  a  Mr.  Hugh  Erwin,  of  Nashville, 
called — a  stranger.  Conversation  about  Clay.  Mr. 
Irving  expressed  warm  admiration  of  Clay.  Spoke  of 
his  haviDg  seen  him  at  "Washington  in  early  life,  and 
been  strongly  attracted  toward  him.  Of  his  going  out 
to  take  leave  of  him  ;  and  Clay,  mounted  on  his  horse, 
accosting  him  with,  "  If  I  can  do  anything  for  you,  let 
me  know."  "  Does  he  suppose,"  thought  I,  "  that  I 
have  been  courting  him  all  this  time  for  a  selfish 
object  ? " 

July  21th. — Speaking  of  the  details  of  the  battle 
of  Solferino,  which  had  just  appeared  in  the  papers : 
"  I  used  to  read  all  the  details  of  a  painful  nature  in 
wars,  but  now  I  skip  them.  My  stomach  has  lost  its 
tone  ;  I  cannot  digest  horrors  any  longer." 

August  5tk. — Very  much  untuned  and  out  of  sorts. 
A  bad  night ;  little  sleep.  Great  oppression  and  short- 
ness of  breath  during  the  day.  I  brought  up  from  the 
city  a  fresh  supply  of  medicine  from  Dr.  Peters,  to 
whom  I  had  reported  Mr.  Irving's  condition.  He  ad- 
vised a  continuance  of  the  tonic  remedies,  particularly 

Vol.  IV.— (20) 


306  WFE  AND  LETTERS  [1859. 

laying  stress  upon  them  as  necessary  to  build  him  up 
and  fortify  him  for  the  trials  of  the  winter.  Seemed 
to  have  a  craving  for  news  when  I  came  up — anything, 
probably,  to  take  off  his  thoughts  from  himself  and  his 
distress. 

Had  a  bad  night,  and  was  excessively  nervous 
during  the  whole  of  the  next  clay.  To  one  who  was 
trying  to  talk  to  him,  and  get  his  mind-off  of  himself: 
"  It  is  a  shame  to  depress  you  by  my  sad  feelings  ;  but 
I  can  no  more  restrain  these  nerves  than  I  could  wild 
horses.  Everything  has  such  a  gloomy  aspect — noth- 
ing to  look  forward  to.  In  this  situation,  I  am  a  bur- 
den to  myself  and  to  everybody  else,  and  would  rather 
lie  down  and  die.  Ah  !  I  have  got  to  the  dregs,  and 
must  take  them." 

August  21st. — Went  to  church.  A  good  deal  dis- 
tressed   with    laboring    breath    after    dinner.      Gave 

H a  letter  to  read,  which  he  had  received  the  day 

before  from  a  stranger  proposing  to  call  on  him.  The 
letter  was  long,  and  occupied  some  time  in  the  read- 
ing. "  Oh  !  if  he  could  only  give  me  his  long  wind, 
he  should  be  most  welcome."  Slept  an  hour  or  two 
after  tea,  and  awoke  very  much  distressed  with  short- 
ness of  breath.  Great  misgiving  on  retiring  for  the 
night.     "  Ah  me  !  what  a  blight  to  fall  on  a  man's  life ! " 

The  next  morning  felt  better.  Alluded  to  the  com- 
mon practice  of  swearing  in  the  early  days  of  New 
York.  "  Could  not  utter  a  sentence  without  sending 
a  damn  with  it  to  give  it  force." 


^t.76.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  307 

August  2>\st. — Mr.  Irving  paid  a  last  visit  to  liis 
friend  Mr.  Ames,  at  Lis  country  residence  at  Craig- 
ville,  Orange  County,  his  niece  Sarah,  Mrs.  Irving,  and 
myself  accompanying  him.  He  hoped  to  find  benefit 
from  change  of  air,  and  seemed  improved  at  first. 

Drove  to  Chester  the  next  day.  Yery  cheerful  in 
the  evening.  Had  seen,  in  some  old  periodical,  an  ac- 
count of  Cooper,  Bryant,  Tuckcrman,  and  others,  hav- 
ing visited  the  Foxes  at  the  rooms  of  Eufus  "W.  Gris- 
wold,  in  the  year  1S50,  and  adverted  to  the  enigma  of 
the  manifestations.  "  Ah  !  "  said  he,  playfully,  "  the 
only  way  to  get  at  the  truth,  is  to  bring  the  mediums 
to  the  stake  ;  that  was  the  good  old  way." 

September  4th. — Drove  to  a  camp  meeting  near 
Oxford.  Mr.  Irving  told,  with  great  zest,  a  story  of 
his  going  to  a  camp  meeting,  when  a  youngster,  not 
far  from  Tarrytown,  with  a  young  lady.  An  old  negro, 
seated  on  a  stump,  rocking  to  and  fro,  with  his  hands 
clasping  his  knees,  looked  up  at  them  with  a  curious 
glance,  supposing  they  had  come  to  mock  and  laugh. 
Gave  them  a  passing  shot :  "  Jesus  will  carry  de  day." 
"  If  God  Almighty  were  not  too  strong  for  de  debbil, 
der'd  be  no  libing  in  dis  world."  Two  black  nymphs 
behind,  fanning  themselves :  "  Let  old  Scip(io)  alone. 
I'll  warrant  he'll  gib  dem  der  own." 

A\ras  very  cheerful  during  the  evening,  telling  vari- 
ous anecdotes  in  his  old  way  ;  but  at  bedtime  the  diffi- 
culty cf  breathing  returned,  and,  with  it,  excessive 
nervousness.     He  had  a  wretched  night,  and  the  next 


308  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  '  [1855. 

morning  decided  to  return  home  at  onee.  We  left  at 
ten  o'clock — he  sadly  discouraged.  He  had  looked  for- 
ward to  this  visit  with  great  hope  from  change  of  air, 
and  the  disappointment  added  to  his  depression.  "We 
arrived  at  Sunnyside  before  two.  He  slept  heavily  in 
the  afternoon  and  early  evening,  but  at  ten  his  short- 
ness of  breath  returned,  and  with  it  his  distressing 
nervousness. 

On  the  9th,  he  went  to  the  city  for  the  day  on  some 
little  business,  and  for  the  change.  On  his  return, 
found  Gouverneur  Kemble  had  called.  Very  sorry  to 
have  missed  him.  Did  not  care  to  see  new  faces,  or 
have  new  faces  see  him  ;  but  of  old  faces  he  could  not 
see  too  much. 

A  day  or  two  after,  had  a  call  from  Mr.  George 
Sumner,  who  was  visiting  in  the  neighborhood.  Ee- 
mained  to  tea.  Mr.  Irving  was  scarcely  able  to  hold 
any  conversation  with  him.  Sumner  reminded  him  of 
a  remark  of  his  at  Madrid,  that  the  best  things  of  an 
author  were  spontaneous — the  first  pressure  of  the 
grape  ;  the  after  squeezings  not  so  rich. 

September  12th. — Had  been  awake  till  three ;  then 
slept  till  four,  after  which  he  got  no  sleep.  Yery  ner- 
vous in  the  morning.  I  took  up  a  volume  of  Perci- 
val's  Poems,  which  I  had  just  brought,  and  read  aloud, 
"  She  had  no  heart,"  &c.  "  That's  very  beautiful ! " 
said  he.  "  Flows  so  naturally  and  easily.  !No  ham- 
mer in  that." 

Speaking  of  an  English  writer  whose  death  had 


.fir.  76.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING  309 

been  announced  in  the  papers,  he  remarked  :  "  1  never 
met  him,  and  never  liked  him.  He  belonged  to  a 
Cockney  clique  for  whom  I  had  no  relish.  They  used 
to  hold  junkettings  at  the  house  of  my  landlady,  Mrs. 

H ?  with  whom  I  lodged  soon  after  I  went  up  to 

London  to  prepare  the  Sketch  Book,  and  they  some- 
times forgot  to  pay  for  them.  She  told  me  once,  when 
a  good  deal  straitened,  that  she  called  at  the  house  of 
one  of  them  with  her  bill  for  wine,  &c.  He  was  ab- 
sent, but  she  saw  his  wife,  who  told  her  she  had  not 
the  money,  and  that  her  husband  was  a  man  of  genius, 
and  could  not  attend  to  such  matters.  "  Send  a  bailiff 
after  the  man  of  genius,"  said  I.  "  I  know  of  no 
genius  that  lifts  a  man  above  his  honest  engagements." 
September  15th. — Found  the  annexed  extract,  after 
tea,  in  the  Home  Journal,  from  the  pen  of  N.  P. 
Willis,  which  was  cut  out  by  Sarah,  that  he  might  not 
sec  it,  from  its  allusion  to  his  closing  life  : 

Mr.  Irving,  by  for  the  most  honored  man  in  our  country,  is, 
curiously  enough,  even  less  honored  than  loved.  He  is  a  mar- 
vel, if  only  by  that  difference  from  other  men  of  genius — 
whose  destiny  it  seems  to  have  their  last  days  sad.  The  set- 
ting of  his  sun  is  mellow,  the  clouds  around  and  behind  him 
rosier  as  he  goes.  There  is  another  summer-day  beauty,  too, 
in  his  decline — the  full  moon  of  renown,  after  death,  seen 
clearly  even  before  the  setting  of  his  sun. 

"We  have  said  thus  much  expressive  of  our  own  feeling,  by 
way  of  declining  more  graciously  the  numbers  of  articles  which 
have  poured  in  upon  us  with  the  recent  news  of  Mr.  Irving's 


310  LIFE  AND  LETTEKS  [1859. 

illness.  From  authentic  sources,  we  learn  that  the  report  of 
his  recent  indisposition  was  very  much  exaggerated,  and  that 
he  is  at  present  in  his  usual  condition  at  Sunnyside. 

My  record  of  the  evening  is  :  Played  whist  from 
eight  to  ten,  after  which  Mr.  Irving  dozed  awhile  in 
his  chair,  and  then  retired  about  eleven,  quite  free, 
apparently,  from  the  nervous  apprehensions  of  the 
night  before. 

To  keep  him  awake  until  ready  to  retire  for  the 
night,  and  to  drive  off  disagreeable  thoughts,  we  were 
in  the  habit  of  playing  either  whist  or  backgammon. 
Chess,  of  which  he  was  fond,  was  too  exciting.  He 
was  always  a  very  poor  player  at  whist,  and  cared 
nothing  for  the  game,  but  was  glad  to  seize  on  any- 
thing to  keep  him  awake  in  the  evening,  lest  any  in- 
dulgence then  should  lessen  his  chance  of  sleep  for  the 
night. 

September  17th. — Mr.  Irving  finishes  "  Quits,"  a 
novel  by  the  authoress  of  the  "  Initials."  Yery  much 
pleased  with  it.  Has  now  "  Cecil ;  or,  The  Adven- 
tures of  a  Coxcomb,"  which  I  have  borrowed  for  him. 
Wants  works  of  a  continuous  interest  in  his  present 
condition. 

September  18th. — Has  had  a  good  night,  which 
makes  the  fourth.  Apparently  much  better.  After 
dinner,  walks  to  Robert,  the  gardener's,  to  see  and 
amuse  himself  with  the  children — his  delight. 

September   19th. — Attended    a  vestry   meeting    at 


&t.  76.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  311 

Christ  Church,  Tarrytown,  of  which  he  was  warden 
as  well  as  vestryman.  Returned  before  dark.  Com- 
plained, at  tcatime,  of  great  heat  in  the  head.  Had 
something  of  a  chill  as  he  retired  for  the  night.  Was 
evidently  feverish. 

The  next  day  I  called  on  Dr.  Peters,  in  New  York, 
who  came  up  with  me  in  the  afternoon  train.  Found 
that  Mr.  Irving  had  fever.  Had  coughed  a  good  deal 
during  the  day.  Gave  him  something  quieting,  which 
allayed  his  cough  for  the  rest  of  the  evening. 

Dr.  Peters  came  up  again  the  next  afternoon.  Mr. 
Irving  was  better ;  and,  at  the  dinner  table,  the  Doc- 
tor told  an  anecdote  of  a  drunkard's  applying  to  him 
for  sixpence,  though  with  an  evident  consciousness  of 
his  own  drunkenness.  Apropos  to  which,  Mr.  Irving 
related  an  anecdote  of  his  walking  the  streets  of  Lon- 
don, smiling  at  the  recollection  of  one  of  his  own 
jokes,  when  he  was  accosted  by  an  Irishwoman  :  "Ah, 
God  bless  your  merry  face  !  surely  you're  not  the  man 
will  refuse  a  poor  woman  a  sixpence."  He  put  his 
hand  in  his  pocket,  and  gave  her — the  smallest  he  had 
—a  guinea.  "  So  much  had  I  to  pay,"  said  he,  "  for 
laughing  at  my  own  joke  ;  and  it  served  me  right." 

September  28th. — The  Doctor  has  been  up  for  sev- 
eral successive  days,  sometimes  remaining  over  night. 
Mr.  Irving  feels  his  kindness  very  deeply.  Was  with 
him  at  one  last  night,  and  again  from  three  to  four 
during  the  night,  as  he  was  very  nervous.  "Was  tor- 
mented with  an  idea  that  he  had  a  big  book  to  write 


312  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1858. 

before  lie  could  sleep.  Visitors  abounded  to-day — 
eighteen  or  nineteen.     Mr.  Irving  could  see  no  one. 

September  29th. — Went  to  bed  at  eleven,  and  had  a 
deplorably  nervous  night.  I  had  tried  in  vain  to  find 
a  book  for  him  to  read.  In  his  present  state,  it  is  hard 
for  him  to  find  entertainment  in  anything.  Though 
his  asthma  was  relieved,  the  lamentable  nervous  dis- 
tress of  which  he  was  so  Jong  the  victim  months  back, 
seemed  to  be  reestablishing  itself,  while  he  had  less 
strength  to  contend  with  it. 

One  of  his  favorite  books,  during  his  long  illness, 
was  Slidell's  Year  in  Spain.  He  read  it  again  and 
again.  Its  graphic  pictures  seemed  to  carry  him  back 
to  pleasant  scenes,  and  out  of  himself.  "When  reading 
to  him,  as  we  did  constantly,  to  produce  sleep,  we 
always  avoided  it,  as  we  found  it  excited  his  imagina- 
tion, and  roused  rather  than  soothed  him. 

September  ZQth — A  deplorably  bad  night.  Sadly 
nervous  and  wakeful.  The  Doctor  came  up  at  half 
past  seven  p.  m.,  and  remained  all  night.  Adminis- 
tered opium  in  slight  doses,  to  make  him  more  amen- 
able to  the  other  medicines,  but  not  to  drug  him. 

October  2d. — Had  a  tolerable  night,  though  not  his 
quantum  of  sleep.  Showed  him  a  letter  of  his  brother 
William,  to  his  mother,  written  in  October,  1787,  when 
he  was  just  twenty-one,  giving  a  picture  of  his  life  on 
the  Mohawk.  Quite  amused  with  it ;  then  launched 
into  a  eulogium  of  his  brother.  "  There  was  a  natural 
richness  of  mind  about  him,  that  made  him  the  most 


JSt.  76.1  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  313 

delightful  of  companions.  How  I  used  to  delight  to 
set  him  going  with  his  world  of  anecdote !  I  knew 
just  what  key  to  touch."  Then  came  an  allusion  to 
his  father's  pastor,  "  old  Dr.  Kodgers,  with  his  buzz 
wig,  silver-mounted  cane,  well-polished  shoes,  and  sil- 
ver shoebuckles." 

October  Uh. — A  good  night,  and  a  good,  comfort- 
able day.     ~No  asthma  now  for  three  weeks. 

October  7th. — Has  had  a  good  night,  with  a  little 
more  cough,  and  a  little  shortness  of  breath — slight 
indications,  possibly,  of  returning  asthma.  At  dinner, 
got  speaking  of  Cooper,  started  by  an  article  on 
Cooper  in  the  North  American,  written  by  Henry  T. 
Tuckerman.  Pronounced  it  a  very  fair,  discriminating 
article.  Thought  Leatherstocking  a  creation.  !No  one 
would  care  to  meddle  with  that  class  of  character  after 
Cooper.  In  life,  they  judge  a  writer  by  his  last  pro- 
duction ;  after  death,  by  what  he  has  done  best.  Look 
at  Shakspeare.  You  do  not  think  of" — (naming  some 
of  Shakspeare's  inferior  plays)  —  "but  of  Macbeth, 
Hamlet,  Othello.     So  it  will  be  with  Cooper." 

October  10th. — Whist  in  the  evening.  Mr.  Irving: 
said,  in  the  course  of  the  game,  "  I  do  not  like  to  be 
guilty  of  pretension,  but  I  must  say  I'm  the  very  worst 
player  that  ever  was.  I  think,  if  I  had  Mrs.  Sidesbot- 
tom  here,  I'd  almost  borrow  her  spectacles."  (Mrs. 
S.  was  an  inveterate  card  player  of  Liverpool,  whose 
partner  at  whist  he  once  was,  and  who  pettishly  offered 

Vol.  IV.— 14 


314  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1859. 

to  lend  him  her  spectacles  when  he  mistook  the  card.) 
He  had  played  only  in  courtesy,  to  make  up  a  hand. 

October  11th. — On  my  return  from  the  city,  at  a 
quarter  past  seven  p.  m.,  found  him  rather  nervous. 
Asked  at  once  if  I  had  brought  anything  to  read; 
whereupon  I  unfolded  my  stores — "Doctor  Thorne," 
"  Reginald  Dalton,"  "  Guy  Livingstone."  Rather  in- 
clined to  condemn  all  without  reading.  Took  up 
"  Doctor  Thome,"  and  thought  he  would  try  it. 

The  next  day  was  a  very  good  one,  and  he  seemed 
quite  like  himself.  Went  to  bed  in  good  spirits,  re- 
joiced that  he  had  "  Doctor  Thorne  "  to  read,  in  which 
he  had  become  quite  interested. 

Afterward  read  "  Reginald  Dalton."  Relished  the 
pictures  of  Oxford  college  life.  Had  finished  "  Doctor 
Thorne."  Thought  it  very  clever — out  of  the  common 
run.  Went  to  bed  not  very  "  sanguin-ary,"  as  he 
termed  it,  of  a  good  sleep. 

October  23d,  Sunday. — Feverish  ;  no  appetite  for 
breakfast.  I  put  on  my  coat,  announcing  my  inten- 
tion to  take  a  good  walk.  "  Better  go  to  church,"  said 
he  ;  "  that  would  be  a  good  walk."  He  was  not  able 
to  go  himself. 

October  30th. — After    church,    a    call    from    Mrs. 

S ,    of   Richmond,    M and    A H . 

They  announce  intention  of  John  P.  Kennedy  to  call 
to-morrow,  at  twelve,  on  his  way  down  from  Idlewild, 
the  seat  of  K  P.  Willis,  the  poet.  On  the  morrow, 
accordingly,  Mr.  Kennedy,  Mr.  Willis,  and  Mr.  Wise, 


JEt.  76.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  315 

author  of  Los  Gringos,  called.  The  latter  had  never 
met  Mr.  Irving  before,  and  the  others  were  to  see  him 
for  the  last  time. 

I  quote  from  the  Home  Journal  of  November  19th, 
a  portion  of  Mr.  Willis's  account  of  the  visit : 

During  the  ten  minutes  before  Mr.  Irving  came  in  (for  he 
was  out  upon  his  morning  drive  when  we  arrived),  his  nieces 
very  kindly  gratified  our  interest  in  the  "  workshop  of  genius," 
by  taking  us  into  the  library — the  little  curtain-windowed  sanc- 
tuary where  his  mind  had  found  both  its  labor  and  its  repose, 
though,  by  the  open  newspapers  scattered  carelessly  over  the 
large  writing  table  in  the  centre,  and  the  inviting  readiness  of 
the  well-cushioned  lounge  in  the  recess,  it  now  serves  more 
the  purpose  of  the  repose  more  needed.  It  was  a  labyrinth  of 
books,  as  it  was  a  labyrinth  of  tender  associations,  in  which,  as 
the  eye  roved  over  its  consecrated  nooks  and  corners,  the 
fancy,  in  all  reverence,  rambled  lovingly  ! 

I  was  looking  admiringly,  once  more,  at  Jarvis's  record  of 
him  at  the  Sketch-Book  period  of  his  life  (the  portrait  Avith  the 
fur  collar,  which  all  who  have  seen  it  will  so  well  remember), 
when  Mr.  Irving  came  in  from  his  drive.  "We  had  heard  so 
much,  recently,  of  his  illness,  that  I  was  surprised  to  see  with 
how  lively  and  firm  a  step  he  entered ;  removing  the  slouched 
hat  (a  comfortable  departure  from  the  old-school  covering, 
which  I  had  never  expected  to  see  on  so  proper  a  head  !)  with 
as  easy  elegance  as  ever,  sitting  down  with  his  gray  shawl  left 
carelessly  over  his  shoulders,  and  entering  upon  kind  inquiries 
and  exchange  of  courtesies  with  no  hindrance  of  debility  that 
I  could  see.  He  is  thinner,  somewhat,  in  both  form  and  fea- 
tures— owing  to  the  asthma,  which  interferes  somewhat  with 


316  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1859. 

his  repose  when  lying  down ;  but  the  genial  expression  of  his 
countenance  is  unchanged,  and  his  eye  as  kindly  and  bright. 
As  to  sprightliness  of  attention  and  reply,  I  could  see  little 
difference  from  the  "Washington  Irving  of  other  days.  The 
reports  of  his  illness  must  have  been  exaggerated,  I  thought. 

Conversation  falling  upon  exercise,  Mr.  Irving  remarked 
that  he  daily  took  his  drive  in  the  carriage — less  from  any 
desire  to  go  abroad,  than  from  finding,  since  he  had  given  up 
habits  of  abor,  that  time  hung  heavy  on  his  hands.  If  he 
walks  out,  it  is  only  in  the  grounds.  "We  spoke  of  horseback 
riding,  and  he  gave  us  a  most  amusing  account  of  his  two  last 
experiences  in  that  way — a  favorite  horse  called  "  Gentleman 
Dick"  having  thrown  him  over  his  head  into  a  laurel  bush, 
which  kindly  broke  his  fall ;  and  another  very  handsome  nag, 
having  proved  to  be  opinionative  as  to  choice  of  road — par- 
ticularly at  a  certain  bridge,  which  it  was  very  necessary  to 
pass  in  every  ride,  but  which  the  horse  could  not  by  any  rea- 
sonable persuasion  be  got  over.  "With  the  sending  of  this 
horse-dogmatist  to  town,  to  be  sold  to  meaner  service  for  his 
obstinacy,  had  ended  the  experiments  in  the  saddle. 

****** 

Attributable,  perhaps,  to  a  rallying  of  his  animal  spirits 
with  cessation  from  work — I  could  not  but  wonder  at  the 
effortless  play  of  "  Diedrich-Knickerbocker  "  humor  which  ran 
through  all  his  conversation — Washington  Irving,  in  his  best 
days,  I  am  very  sure,  was  never  more  socially  "  agreeable  " 
than  with  us,  for  that  brief  visit.  One  little  circumstance  was 
mentioned  in  the  course  of  this  pleasant  gossip.  There  was 
some  passing  discussion  of  the  wearing  of  beards — his  friend 
Mr.  Kennedy  having  made  that  alteration  in  his  physiognomy 
since  they  had  met ;  and  Mr.  Irving  closed  a  playful  comment 


At.  It.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  31 7 

or  two  upon  the  habit,  by  saying  that  he  could  scarce  afford 
the  luxury  himself,  involving,  as  it  would  do,  the  loss  of  the 
most  effectual  quietus  of  his  nerves.  To  get  up  and  shave, 
when  tired  of  lying  awake,  sure  of  going  to  sleep  immediately 
after,  had  long  been  a  habit  of  his.  There  was  an  amusing 
exchange  of  sorrows,  also,  between  him  and  Mr.  Kennedy,  as 
to  persecution  by  autograph  hunters ;  though  the  ex-Secretary 
gave  rather  the  strongest  instance — mentioning  an  unknown 
man  who  had  written  to  him  when  at  the  head  of  the  Navy 
Department,  requesting,  as  one  of  his  constituents,  to  be  fur- 
nished with  autographs  of  all  the  Presidents,  of  himself  and 
the  rest  of  the  Cabinet,  and  of  any  other  distinguished  men 
with  whom  he  might  be  in  correspondence  ! 

But  there  was  a  table  calling  for  us  which  was  less  agree- 
able than  the  one  we  were  at — the  "  time  table  ''  of  the  rail- 
road below — and  our  host's  carriage  was  at  the  door.  Mr. 
Kennedy  was  bound  to  the  city,  where  Mr.  Irving,  as  he  gave 
us  his  farewell  upon  the  porch,  said  he  thought  he  might  find 
him,  in  a  day  or  two ;  and  Wise  and  I,  by  the  up  train,  were 
bound  back  to  Idlewild.  We  were  at  home  by  seven,  and, 
over  our  venison  supper  (the  "  Alleghany  haunch  "  still  boun- 
tiful), we  exchanged  our  remembrances  of  the  day,  and  our 
felicitations  at  having  been  privileged,  thus  delightfully,  to  see, 
in  his  home  and  in  health,  the  still  sovereign  Story  King  of 
the  Hudson.  May  God  bless  him  !  and  may  the  clouds  about 
his  loved  and  honored  head  grow  still  brighter  with  the  nearer 
setting  of  his  sun.     *     *     * 

I  draw  again  on  my  notes  for  the  following  memo- 
randum, which  records  his  last  pilgrimage  to  his  native 
city — made  six  days  after  the  foregoing  visit. 


318  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1859. 

JYoveniber  5th. — A  good  deal  troubled  with  his 
cough.  Visited  New  York.  Lunched  at  Charles  A. 
Davis's. 

Two  days  after,  Mr.  Theodore  Tilton,  one  of  the 
editors  of  the  New  York  Independent,  spent  a  half 
hour  at  Sunnyside,  of  which  he  contributed  to  the  col- 
umns of  that  print  the  following  interesting  account : 

I  had  half  an  hour,  one  day  last  week,  at  Sunnyside,  the 
residence  of  Washington  Irving.  Such  a  half  hour  ought  to 
have  been  one  of  the  pleasantest  in  one's  life ;    and  so   it 


was. 


*     * 


The  morning  had  been  rainy,  and  the  afternoon  showed 
only  a  few  momentary  openings  of  clear  sky ;  so  that  I  saw 
Sunnyside  without  the  sun.  But,  under  the  heavy  clouds, 
there  was  something  awe-inspiring  in  the  sombre  view  of  those 
grand  hills,  with  their  many-colored  forests,  and  of  Hendrik 
Hudson's  ancient  river  still  flowing  at  the  feet  of  the  ancient 
palisades. 

The  mansion  of  Sunnyside  has  been  standing  for  twenty- 
three  years ;  but  when  first  its  sharp-angled  roof  wedged  its 
way  up  among  the  branches  of  the  old  woods,  the  region  was 
far  more  a  solitunde  than  now ;  for  at  that  time  our  busy  au- 
thor had  secluded  himself  from  almost  everybody  but  one  near 
neighbor ;  while  he  has  since  unwittingly  gathered  around  him 
a  little  community,  whose  elegant  country  seats,  opening  into 
each  other  by  mutual  intertwining  roads,  form  what  looks  like 
one  vast  and  free  estate,  called  on  the  time  tables  of  the  rail- 
road by  the  honorary  name  of  Irvington.  But  even  within 
the  growing  circle  of  his  many  neighbors,  the  genial  old 
Knickerbocker  still  lives  in  true  retirement,  entertaining  his 


JEt.  76.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  319 

guests  -within  echo  distance  of  Sleepy  Hollow,  without  thought, 
and  almost  -without  knowledge 

"  how  the  great  world 


Is  praising  him  far  off." 

Mr.  Irving  is  not  so  old-looking  as  one  -would  expect  -who 
knew  his  age.  I  fancied  him  as  in  the  winter  of  life ;  I  found 
him  only  in  its  Indian  summer.  He  came  down  stairs,  and 
walked  through  the  hall  into  the  hack  parlor,  with  a  firm  and 
lively  step  that  might  well  have  made  one  doubt  whether  he 
had  truly  attained  his  seventy-seventh  year !  He  was  suffering 
from  asthma,  and  was  muffled  against  the  damp  air  with  a 
Scotch  shawl,  wrapped  like  a  great  loose  scarf  around  his 
neck ;  but  as  he  took  his  seat  in  the  old  armchair,  and,  despite 
his  hoarseness  and  troubled  chest,  began  an  unexpectedly  viva- 
cious conversation,  he  almost  made  me  forget  that  I  was  the 
guest  of  an  old  man  long  past  his  "  threescore  years  and  ten." 

But  what  should  one  talk  about  who  had  only  half  an  hour 
with  "Washington  Irving?  I  ventured  the  question:  "Now 
that  you  have  laid  aside  your  pen,  which  of  your  books  do  you 
look  back  upon  with  most  pleasure  ?  " 

He  immediately  replied  :  "  I  scarcely  look  with  full  satis- 
faction upon  any  ;  for  they  do  not  seem  what  they  might  have 
been.  I  often  wish  that  I  could  have  twenty  years  more,  to 
take  them  down  from  the  shelf  one  by  one,  and  write  them 
over." 

He  spoke  of  his  daily  habits  of  writing,  before  he  had 
made  the  resolution  to  write  no  more.  His  usual  hours  for  lit. 
erary  work  were  from  morning  till  noon.  But,  although  he  had 
generally  found  his  mind  most  vigorous  in  the  early  part  of  the 
day,  he  had  always  been  subject  to  moods  and  caprices,  and 


320  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1859. 

could  never  tell,  when  lie  took  up  the  pen,  how  many  hours 
would  pass  before  he  would  lay  it  down. 

"But,"  said  he,  "these  capricious  periods  of  the  heat  and 
glow  of  composition,  have  been  the  happiest  hours  of  my  life. 
I  have  never  found,  in  anything  outside  of  the  four  walls  of 
my  study,  any  enjoyment  equal  to  sitting  at  my  writing  desk, 
with  a  clean  page,  a  new  theme,  and  a  mind  wide  awake." 

His  literary  employments,  he  remarked,  had  always  been 
more  like  entertainments  than  tasks. 

"  Some  writers,"  said  he,  "  appear  to  have  been  indepen- 
dent of  moods.  Sir  Walter  Scott,  for  instance,  had  great 
power  of  writing,  and  could  work  almost  at  any  time.  So 
could  Crabbe ;  but  with  this  difference — Scott  always,  and 
Crabbe  seldom,  wrote  well.  I  remember,"  said  he,  "  taking 
breakfast,  one  morning,  with  Eogers,  Moore,  and  Crabbe. 
The  conversation  turned  on  Lord  Byron's  poetic  moods. 
Crabbe  said  that,  however  it  might  be  with  Lord  Byron,  as  for 
himself,  he  could  write  as  well  at  one  time  as  at  another. 
But,"  said  Irving,  with  a  twinkle  of  humor  at  recalling  the 
incident,  "  Crabbe  has  written  a  great  deal  that  nobody  can 
read." 

He  mentioned  that,  while  living  in  Paris,  he  went  a  long 
period  without  being  able  to  write.  "  I  sat  down  repeatedly," 
said  he,  ■'  with  pen  and  ink,  but  could  invent  nothing  worth 
putting  on  the  paper.  At  length  I  told  my  friend  Tom  Moore, 
who  dropped  in  one  morning,  that  now,  after  long  waiting,  I 
had  the  mood,  and  would  hold  it,  and  work  it  out  as  long  as  it 
would  last,  until  I  had  wrung  my  brain  dry.  So  I  began  to 
write  shortly  after  breakfast,  and  continued,  without  noticing 
how  the  time  was  passing,  until  Moore  came  in  again  at  four  in 
the  afternoon — when  I  had  completely  covered  the  table  with 


uEt.  76.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  321 

freshly  written  sheets.  I  kept  the  mood  almost  without  inter- 
ruption for  six  weeks." 

I  asked  which  of  his  books  was  the  result  of  this  frenzy. 
He  replied,  "  Bracebridge  Hall." 

"None  of  your  works,"  I  remarked,  "are  more  charming 
than  the  Biography  of  Goldsmith." 

"Yet  that  was  written,"  said  he,  "even  more  rapidly  than 
the  other."  He  then  added :  "  When  I  hare  been  engaged 
on  a  continuous  work,  I  have  often  been  obliged  to  rise  in  the 
middle  of  the  night,  light  my  lamp,  and  write  an  hour  or  two, 
to  relieve  my  mind  ;  and,  now  that  I  write  no  more,  I  am 
sometimes  compelled  to  get  up  in  the  same  way  to  read." 

Sometimes,  also,  as  the  last  Idlewild  letter  mentions,  he 
gets  up  to  shave  ! 

"When  I  was  in  Spain,"  he  remarked,  "searching  the  old 
chronicles,  and  engaged  on  the  Life  of  Columbus,  I  often 
wrote  fourteen  or  fifteen  hours  out  of  the  twenty-four." 

He  said  that,  whenever  he  had  forced  his  mind  unwillingly 
to  work,  the  product  was  worthless,  and  he  invariably  threw  it 
away,  and  began  again ;  "  for,"  as  he  observed,  "  an  essay  or 
chapter  that  has  been  only  hammered  out,  is  seldom  good  for 
anything.  ^An  author's  right  time  to  work  is  when  his  mind  is 
aglow — when  his  imagination  is  kindled.  These  are  his  pre- 
cious moments.  Let  him  wait  until  they  come;  but,  when 
they  have  come,  let  him  make  the  most  of  them." 

I  referred  to  his  last  and  greatest  work,  The  Life  of  Wash- 
ington, and  asked  if  he  felt,  on  finishing  it,  any  such  sensation 
as  Gibbon  is  said  to  have  experienced  over  the  last  sheet  of  the 
Decline  and  Fall.  Pie  replied  that  the  whole  work  had  en- 
grossed his  mind  to  such  a  degree,  that,  before  he  was  aware, 

Vol.  IV.— 14*  (21) 


322  LIFE  -^D  LETTERS  11859. 

he  had  written  himself  into  feebleness  of  health ;  that  he 
feared  in  the  midst  of  his  labor  that  it  would  break  him  down 
before  he  could  end  it ;  that  when,  at  last,  the  final  pages  were 
written,  he  gave  the  manuscript  to  his  nephew  to  be  conducted 
through  the  press,  and  threw  himself  back  upon  his  red-cush- 
ioned lounge  with  an  indescribable  feeling  of  relief.  He  added, 
that  the  great  fatigue  of  mind,  throughout  the  whole  task,  had 
resulted  from  the  care  and  pains  required  in  the  construction 
and  arrangement  of  materials,  and  not  in  the  mere  literary 
composition  of  the  successive  chapters. 

On  the  parlor  wall  hung  the  engraving  of  Faed's  picture 
of  "  Scott  and  his  Contemporaries."  I  alluded  to  it  as  present- 
ing a  group  of  his  former  friends. 

"  Yes,"  said  he  ;  "  I  knew  every  man  of  them  but  three  ; 
and  now  they  are  all  gone  !  " 

"  Are  the  portraits  good  ?  "  I  inquired. 

"  Scott's  head,"  he  replied,  u  is  well  drawn,  though  the  ex- 
pression lacks  something  of  Scott's  force.  Campbell's  is  toler- 
able. Lockhart's  is  the  worst.  Lockhart,"  said  he,  "  was  a 
man  of  very  delicate  organization,  but  he  had  a  more  manly 
look  than  in  the  picture." 

"  You  should  write  one  more  book,"  I  hinted. 

"  What  is  that  ?  " 

"  Your  reminiscences  of  those  literary  friends." 

"  Ah,"  he  exclaimed,  "  it  is  too  late  now  !  I  shall  never 
take  the  pen  again.  I  have  so  entirely  given  up  writing,  that 
even  my  best  friends'  letters  lie  unanswered.  I  must  have 
rest.     No  more  books  now  1  " 

****** 

As  I  rose  to  go,  he  brought  from  a  corner  of  the  room  a 
photograph  of  a  little  girl,  exhibiting  it  with  great  enthusiasm. 


JBt.76.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  323 

It  was  a  gift  from  a  little  child  who  had  come  to  see  him  every- 
day during  his  sickness.  The  picture  was  accompanied  with  a 
note,  printed  in  large  letters,  with  a  lead  pencil,  hy  the  little 
correspondent,  who  said  she  was  too  young  to  write.  He 
spoke  with  great  vivacity  of  his  childish  visitor.  "  Children," 
said  the  old  man,  "  are  great  pets.  I  am  very  fond  of  the  little 
creatures." 

The  author's  study — into  which  I  looked  for  a  few  mo- 
ments before  leaving — is  a  small  room,  almost  entirely  filled  by 
the  great  writing  table  and  the  lounge  behind  it.  The  walls 
are  laden  with  books  and  pictures,  which  evidently  are  re- 
arranged every  day  by  some  delicate  hand ;  for  none  of  the 
books  were  tumbled  into  a  corner,  and  no  papers  were  lying 
loose  upon  the  table.  The  pen,  too,  was  lying  precisely  paral- 
lel to  the  edge  of  the  inkstand — a  nicety  which  only  a  womanly 
housekeeper  would  persevere  to  maintain.  Besides,  there  was 
not  a  speck  of  dust  upon  carpet  or  cushion. 

I  stood  reverently  in  the  little  room,  as  if  it  were  a  sacred 
place.  Its  associations  filled  my  mind  with  as  much  delight  as 
if  I  had  been  breathing  fragrance  from  hidden  flowers.  On 
leaving,  I  carried  the  picture  of  it  vividly  in  my  mind,  and 
still  carry  it — the  quiet,  secluded,  poetic  haunt  in  which  a  great 
author  wrote  his  greatest  works. 

As  I  came  away,  the  old  gentleman  bundled  his  shawl 
about  him,  and  stood  a  few  moments  on  the  steps.  A  mo- 
mentary burst  of  sunshine  fell  on  him  through  the  breaking 
clouds.  In  that  full  light  he  looked  still  less  like  an  old  man 
than  in  the  dark  parlor  by  the  shaded  window.  *  *  *  I 
wish  always  to  remember  him  as  I  saw  him  at  that  last 
moment. 


324  TJFF,  AND  LETTERS  [1859; 

I  return  once  more  to  my  notes  : 

November  10th. — His  cough  not  so  troublesome. 
Is  evidently  stronger  than  he  was. 

November  16th. — I  returned  to  Sunnyside  from  an 
absence  of  two  days  in  the  city.  Found  Mr.  Irving 
had  been  suffering  from  a  renewal  of  his  asthma,  which 
had  been  distressing  him  for  three  or  four  days.     A 

Mrs.  called  just  at  twilight,  to  importune  him 

for  an  autograph  in  her  book.  Mr.  Irving  being 
asleep,  we  tried  to  fight  her  off  with  an  offer  of  a  loose 
one ;  but  she  was  pertinacious,  and  we  had  to  seize  a 
moment  of  partial  wakefulness  to  get  him  to  write  it 
in  her  book,  which  he  did  without  seeing  her. 

November  20th,  Sunday. — At  breakfast,  one  of  his 
nieces  mentioned  her  dream  of  seeing  a  spirit ;  her 
dread,  and  the  nightmare  consequent  thereupon.  "  Did 
you  question  it  ? "  was  asked.  "No;  she  did  not  want 
to  have  anything  to  do  with  spirits  in  this  life  ;  "  and 
appealed  for  approval  to  Mr.  Irving,  who  thought  we 
were  "  better  adapted  to  communion  in  the  flesh." 
He  then  alluded  again  to  the  anecdote  of  Hall  and 
himself,  and  their  strange  and  solemn  compact,  which 
had  no  result. 

Went  to  church. 

November  22d,  Tuesday. — A  call  from  Mr.  "Wil- 
liam G.  Dix,  seeking  a  personal  acquaintance,  and 
bringing  a  note  from  Rev.  James  Selden  Spencer, 
assistant  minister  of  Christ  Church,  Tarrytown.  It 
was  Mr.  Irving's  last  interview  with  a  stranger. 


^Et.  76.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  325 

I  happened  to  mention  (says  Mr.  Dix,  in  a  letter  published 
after  his  death,  recounting  the  interview)  the  name  of  Wash- 
ington Allston.  It  set  his  soul  all  glowing  with  tender,  affec- 
tionate enthusiasm.  To  hear  the  great  painter  so  praised  by 
the  great  writer,  with  a  voice  tremulous  partly  with  infirmity 
but  more  with  emotion,  was  something  to  keep,  as  surely  as  if 
every  word  had  been  engraven  with  the  point  of  a  diamond. 

I  drew  my  interview  soon  to  a  close,  not  wishing  to  make 
him  weary ;  and  his  cordial  desire  that  I  would  call  to  see  him 
again,  and  his  expressions  of  goodwill,  so  much  more  hearty 
than  I  had  any  right  to  expect,  will  ever  be  cherished  as  a 
benediction.  I  seem  to  have  received  a  parting  blessing  on 
my  heart  and  soul.  How  little  did  I  then  think  that  it  would 
prove  the  very  last !     *     *     * 

"When  I  was  leaving  Mr.  Irving,  I  asked  him  to  let  me 
pluck  some  of  the  ivy  leaves  that  adorn  his  house.  He  con- 
sented with  a  smile  so  full  of  kindness  and  tenderness,  and 
with  a  tone  so  full  of  feeling,  that  I  shall  regard  every  leaf  as 
more  precious  than  gold. 

November  27th,  Sunday.  —  Attended  church  at 
Tarry  town.  In  the  evening,  it  was  remarked  that  we 
would  have  to  contrive  some  religious  game  to  prevent 
his  foiling  asleep.  "  I  shall  have  to  get  a  dispensation 
from  Dr.  Creighton  to  allow  me  to  play  whist  on  Sun- 
day evening,"  was  his  playful  rejoinder.  We  kept 
him  in  conversation  till  nine  o'clock,  when  sleep  over- 
took him,  though  he  still  tried  to  struggle  against  it. 

November  28M,  Monday. — Mr.  Irving  seemed  very 
comfortable.     C ,  S ,  and  myself,  started  for 


326  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1859. 

the  city  in  the  morning  train,  leaving  H and 

M with  the  invalid.     He  walked  out  to  the  brook 

lot  about  eleven,  but  did  not  drive  out  as  usual,  as  he 
feared  a  return  of  difficult  breathing.  He  had  come 
back  from  his  short  walk  with  oppressed  respiration, 
and  seemed  more  than  usually  depressed,  but  rallied 

to  a  playful  conversation  with  Mrs.  H ,  a  lovely 

neighbor,  who  was  a  great  favorite  with  him. 

On  our  return  from  the  city,  in  the  afternoon,  we 
found  the  family  at  dinner,  with  the  addition  of  his 
nephew,  the  Eev.  Pierre  P.  Irving,  who  had  come  up 
during  our  absence.  The  windows  of  the  dining  room 
looked  to  the  west  and  south,  and  the  whole  party 
were  lost  in  admiration  of  one  of  the  most  gorgeous 
sunsets  I  have  ever  beheld.  The  whole  western  sky 
was  hung  with  clouds  of  the  richest  crimson,  while  the 
scene  had  all  the  softness  of  our  lingering  Indian  sum- 
mer. Mr.  Irving  exclaimed  again  and  again  at  the 
beauty  of  the  prospect.  How  little  did  any  of  us 
dream  it  was  to  be  his  last  sunset  on  earth  ! 

He  slept  between  dinner  and  tea.  In  the  evening 
seemed  heavy,  and  a  good  deal  depressed,  as  he  had 
been  more  than  usual  during  the  day,  but  was  free 
from  nervousness,  and  would  occasionally  join  in  pleas- 
ant conversation. 

On  retiring  for  the  night,  at  half  past  ten,  his  niece 
Sarah,  who  always  took  charge  of  his  medicines,  went 
into  his  room  to  place  them,  as  usual,  within  easy 
reach.     "  "Well,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I  must  arrange  nay 


JSt.76.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  327 

pillows  for  another  weary  night !  "  and  then,  as  if  half 
to  himself,  "  If  this  could  only  end  !  "  or  "  When  will 
this  end ! "  she  could  not  tell  which  ;  for,  at  the  in- 
stant, he  gave  a  slight  exclamation,  as  if  of  pain,  press- 
ing his  hand  on  his  left  side,  repeated  the  exclamation 
and  the  pressure,  caught  at  the  footboard  of  the  bed, 
and  fell  backward  to  the  floor.  The  sound  of  his  fall 
and  the  screams  of  Sarah  brought  the  whole  family  in 
an  instant  to  his  room.  I  raised  his  head  in  my  arms. 
Every  means  was  resorted  to  to  recall  animation,  and 
continued  until  a  physician — Dr.  Caruthers,  from  a 
distance  of  two  miles — arrived,  who  pronounced  life 
entirely  extinct.  He  had  passed  away  instantaneously. 
The  end  for  which  he  had  just  been  sighing — the  end, 
which  to  him  had  no  terrors — had  come.  His  departure 
was  sudden ;  but  so  he  was  willing  it  should  be.  In 
the  fulness  of  years,  with  unclouded  intellect,  crowned 
with  the  warmest  affections  of  his  countrymen,  and 
with  an  assured  hope  of  a  happy  immortality,  he  had 
gone  down,  according  to  his  own  pathetic  aspiration, 
"  with  all  sail  set."  Who  that  loved  him  would  have 
wished  to  recall  him  ! 

When  his  physician,  Dr.  Peters,  arrived  at  the 
house  the  next  morning,  he  pronounced  the  immediate 
cause  of  his  death  to  be  disease  of  the  heart.  He  had 
informed  me,  eleven  months  before,  that  there  was 
enlargement  of  the  heart,  but  he  did  not  then  express 
serious  apprehension  from  this  cause. 

His  attention  to  his  patient  during  a  year  of  suffer- 


328  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1859. 

ing  was  most  unwearied,  and,  whatever  skill  could 
accomplish,  was  faithfully  done  ;  but  the  difficulty  lay 
too  deep  for  remedy.  No  skill  could  have  averted  or 
delayed  the  catastrophe. 

When  the  news  of  Mr.  Irving's  death  was  an- 
nounced, the  next  morning,  in  his  native  city,  the  flags 
on  the  shipping  and  the  public  buildings  were  instantly 
hung  at  half  mast ;  and  the  various  public  bodies 
which  had  a  session  during  the  day,  made  allusion  to 
the  event.  The  Common  Council,  also,  at  the  instiga- 
tion of  the  Mayor,  passed  resolutions  to  testify  its 
respect  to  his  memory. 

It  is  a  remarkable  incident  in  the  obsequies  of  a 
private  individual,  that  the  various  courts  of  the  city 
adjourned  on  the  day  of  the  funeral,  to  afford  opportu- 
nity to  those  who  wished  to  attend  it ;  and  during  the 
hour  when  the  last  services  were  performing,  miles  dis- 
tant, in  the  little  rural  church  in  which  he  had  wor- 
shipped, the  bells  of  his  native  city  were  tolling  a 
mournful  and  responsive  peal.  On  that  day,  also,  the 
shops  and  places  of  business  of  the  village  through 
which  the  procession  was  to  pass  were  closed.  The 
railroad  depot  at  which  passengers  were  to  alight  from 
New  York,  the  hotel,  the  public  buildings,  and  many 
of  the  private  residences  in  the  principal  streets,  were 
draped  in  black,  and  mourning  festoons  were  hung 
across  the  road. 

It  was  on  the  1st  of  December  that  the  mortal 
remains  of  "Washington  Irving  were  conveyed  to  their 


Mr.  76.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  329 

last  resting  place ;  but  no  breath  of  winter  chilled  the 
air.  The  Indian  summer,  which  this  season  had  lin- 
gered into  the  very  winter,  shed  its  soft  and  melan- 
choly beauty  over  the  scene,  and  nothing  could  have 
been  more  exquisite  than  the  day,  or  more  in  keeping 
with  the  sad  occasion.  "  It  is  one  of  his  own  days," 
was  the  remark  of  many  present. 

The  carriages,  with  the  officiating  clergymen,  his 
physician,  the  relatives  of  the  deceased,  and  the  pall- 
bearers, moved  from  Sunnyside  at  half  past  twelve 
o'clock.  At  the  head  of  the  lane  which  forms  the 
entrance  to  the  place,  a  long  line  of  carriages,  con- 
taining the  residents  of  the  immediate  neighborhood, 
joined  the  procession.  Upon  its  arrival  at  Christ 
Church,  Tarrytown,  where  the  services  were  to  be 
held,  it  was  met  by  a  large  concourse  of  the  inhab- 
itants of  the  neighboring  country,  and  an  array  of 
men  eminent  in  the  various  walks  of  literature  and 
commerce,  who  had  assembled  from  New  York  and 
other  cities  to  pay  the  last  tribute  of  respect  to  the 
honored  dead. 

At  half  past  one,  the  clergy  present  entered  the 
chancel,  led  by  Bishop  Potter.  They  were  the  Eev. 
Dr.  Vinton,  of  St.  Paul's,  New  York,  Eev.  Dr.  Taylor, 
of  Grace  Church,  Eev.  Mr.  Meade,  Eev.  Mr.  Farm- 
ington,  of  Trinity,  Eev.  Dr.  Morgan,  of  St.  Thomas's, 
Eev.  Dr.  McVickar,  Eev.  Mr.  Babbitt,  and  Eev.  Mr. 
Moore.  At  the  door  of  the  church,  the  coffin  was  met 
by  the  rector,  Eev.  Dr.  Creighton  (pastor  and  friend 


330  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [l.^'j. 

of  the  deceased),  and  Rev.  Mr.  Spencer,  his  assistant, 
who  preceded  it  up  the  aisle,  the  rector  reading  the 
opening  sentences  of  the  Episcopal  burial  service. 
The  coffin  was  placed  in  front  of  the  altar,  when  the 
choir  joined  in  the  solemn  and  beautiful  anthem, 
"  Lord,  let  me  know  my  end." 

"When  the  impressive  services  were  concluded,  Dr. 
Creighton  announced  that,  as  had  been  requested,  the 
lid  of  the  coffin  would  be  opened,  to  enable  all  who 
were  so  disposed  to  take  a  last  look  of  the  face  of  the 
deceased.  Nearly  a  thousand  persons,  it  is  stated,  who 
had  been  unable  to  gain  entrance  to  the  church,  availed 
themselves  of  this  mournful  privilege,  and  passed  in 
silent  procession  by  the  remains.  The  coffin  was  then 
returned  to  the  hearse,  and  the  procession  of  carriages, 
computed  at  one  hundred  and  fifty,  formed  anew,  and 
accompanied  by  a  large  concourse  of  pedestrians,  pro- 
ceeded to  the  cemetery.  It  was  situated  about  a  mile 
north  of  the  church,  on  a  beautiful  hill,  commanding 
on  one  side  a  noble  view  of  the  Hudson,  and  on  the 
other  a  portion  of  the  Sleepy  Hollow  valley.  The  route 
passed  by  the  monument  erected  to  the  captors  of 
Major  Andre  on  the  spot  where  he  was  taken,  and 
across  the  bridge  immortalized  in  the  Legend  of 
Sleepy  Hollow,  which  was  hung  with  emblems  of 
mourning. 

On  reaching  the  place  of  interment,  Dr.  Creighton, 
according  to  the  beautiful  and  impressive  service  of 
the  Episcopal    Church,   consigned    the  body  to  the 


jEt.  76.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  331 

grave :    "  Earth    to    earth,   ashes    to    ashes,   dust    to 
dust." 

As  he  was  laid  down  to  take  his  last  sleep  among 
the  scenes  he  had  loved  and  celebrated,  and  by  the  side 
of  his  mother,  as  he  had  himself  desired,  the  sun  was 
declining ;  and  soon  another  gorgeous  sunset,  such  as 
brightened  his  last  evening  in  life,  again  lighted  up  the 
western  sky.  It  was  a  glorious  scene  ;  and  few  of  the 
sad-hearted  mourners  who  had  stood  around  the  grave, 
failed  to  associate  that  day's  decline  with  the  close  of 
that  pure  and  beautiful  life. 


My  task  is  finished.  I  have  traced  the  career  of 
the  author  from  its  commencement  to  its  close,  as  far 
as  possible,  through  his  own  letters  and  words  ;  and  if 
the  reader  has  not  imbibed  a  correct  idea  of  his  per- 
sonal and  literary  character  in  this  way,  it  would  be 
idle  to  attempt  a  more  formal  delineation  of  his  virtues 
as  a  man,  or  his  genius  as  a  writer. 

I  close  with  an  extract  from  a  beautiful  and  truth- 
ful portrait  of  him  by  a  young  author,  which  appeared 
among  numerous  other  tributes  after  his  decease.  It 
is  from  the  pen  of  George  William  Curtis  : 

With  Irving,  the  man  and  the  author  were  one.  The 
same  twinkling  humor,  untouched  by  personal  venom ;  the 
same  sweetness,  geniality,  and  grace ;  *  *  *  which  en- 
deared   the  writer  to  his  readers,   endeared    the    man  to  his 


332  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  [1S59. 

friends.  Gifted  with  a  happy  temperament,  with  that  cheer- 
•  ful  balance  of  thought  and  feeling  which  begets  the  sympathy 
which  prevents  bitter  animosity,  he  lived  through  the  sharpest 
struggles  of  our  politics,  not  without  interest,  but  without  bit- 
terness, and  with  the  tenderest  respect  of  every  party. 

His  tastes  and  talents  and  habits  were  all  those  of  the  lit- 
erary man.  *  *  *  And  it  was  given  to  him  first  of  our 
authors  to  invest  the  American  landscape  with  the  charm  of 
imagination  and  tradition. 

****** 

"When  his  death  was  known,  there  was  no  class  of  men 
who  more  sincerely  deplored  him  than  those  of  his  own  voca- 
tion. The  older  authors  felt  that  a  friend,  not  a  rival — the 
younger,  that  a  father  had  gone.  There  is  not  a  young  literary 
aspirant  in  the  country,  who,  if  he  ever  personally  met  Irving, 
did  not  hear  from  him  the  kindest  words  of  sympathy,  regard, 
and  encouragement.  There  is  none  of  the  older  rank  who, 
knowing  him,  did  not  love  him.  He  belonged  to  no  clique,  no 
party  in  his  own  profession,  more  than  in  any  other  of  the 
great  interests  of  life ;  and  that  not  by  any  wilful  indepen- 
dence, or  neutrality  armed  against  all  comers,  but  by  the  natu- 
ral catholicity  of  his  nature. 

On  the  day  of  his  burial,  unable  to  reach  Tarrytown  in 
time  for  the  funeral,  I  came  down  the  shore  of  the  river  he 
loved.  As  we  darted  and  wound  along,  the  Catskills  were 
draped  in  sober  gray  mist,  not  hiding  them,  but  wreathing,  and 
folding,  and  lingering,  as  if  the  hills  were  hung  with  sympa- 
thetic, but  not  unrelieved  gloom.  Yet  far  away  toward  the 
south,  the  bank  on  which  his  home  lay,  was  Sunnyside  still,  for 
the  sky  was  cloudless,  and  soft  with  serene  sunshine.     I  could 


JEt.  76.]  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  333 

not  but  remember  his  last  words  to  me,  more  than  a  year  ago, 
when  his  book  was  finished,  and  his  health  was  failing  :  "  I  am 
getting  ready  to  go ;  I  am  shutting  up  my  doors  and  windows." 
And  I  could  not  but  feel  that  they  were  all  open  now,  and 
brierht  with  the  lisrht  of  eternal  morniner. 


THF  KXD. 


APPENDIX. 


APPENDIX. 


(A.)— INTERPOLATED    MATTER, 

Refared  to  at  Pages  213,  215,  220. 

[The  two  chapters  which  follow,  making  seventy-nine  pages,  were 
inserted  by  the  London  publisher  in  my  unfinished  work  at  the  close 
of  the  third  volume,  without  my  knowledge  or  supervision  ;  a  proceeding, 
I  imagine,  without  precedent  in  the  annals  of  literature.  As  I  have  been 
obliged  to  allude  to  the  circumstance  in  the  text,  and  as  some  of  the  Eng- 
lish periodicals  have  also  drawn  attention  to  this  "  double  editing,"  I  place 
the  whole  before  the  American  reader,  not  as  a  matter  of  choice,  but  of 
necessity.] 

CHAPTER   XXIII, 

WASHINGTON  inVING— HIS  INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  FAMILY  OF  FOSTER,  AND  ITS 
HISTORY— THE  LETTER — SECOND  ATTACHMENT,  AND  "  EMILY  " — HER  MAJESTY 
THE  QUEEN"  OF  SAXONY  AND  THE  HALF  CROWN — WASHINGTON  IRVING  AND 
THE  METHODISTS  ON  THE  HUDSON— ROYAL  VISITORS  AND  GENERAL  CANIKOF 
—  THE  POLES,  ITALIANS,  AND  THE  SPY— MR.  IRVING  RELATES  ANECDOTES, 
AND  RECALLS  EVENTS  AND  FEELINGS  OF  HIS  EARLY  LIFE— ENGLISH  ECCEN- 
TRICITIES AND  IRVINC'S  ANGER— CANNON  BALLS,  AND  THE  HERO'S  LEG— HIS- 
TORY OF  HIS  FIRST  LOVE  DROUGHT  TO  US  AND  RETURNED— IRVING's  SECOND 
ATTACHMENT— THE  LITTLE  PICTURE  AND  THE  CONFIDANTE  —  DEPARTURE — 
LEIPZIG  AND  PONIATOWSKI— THE  HARTZ  AND  THE  AHNFRAU — DIE  AHNFKAU 
— WASHINGTON  IRVING,  HIS  RAMBLE  AND  HIS  ROBBERS  —  HANOVER  AND 
HESSE   CASSEL. 

[In*  a  letter  of  Washington  Irving  (who  had  rcoentlv  re- 
visited England  on  public  business)  to  Mrs.  Dawson,  in  Febru- 
ary, 1846,  he  recalls  his  "delightful  recollection  of  past  times," 

Vol.  IV.— 15  (22) 


333  APPENDIX. 

of  "  moving  accidents  by  flood  and  field,"  in  the  society  of  the 
family  of  the  Fosters ;  and  intimates  his  intention  of  paying 
her  a  visit  as  soon  as  he  shall  be  able.  He  gives  her  an  ac- 
count of  his  mode  of  life  in  America,  of  his  happy  home  at  his 
lovely  cottage  at  Sunnyside,  and,  after  relating,  as  he  says  they 
do  in  story  books,  his  own  history,  begs  that  she  will  give  him 
hers  in  return.  The  letters  and  anecdotes  of  Washington 
Irving  have  been  derived  from  Mrs.  Dawson  (Flora  Foster) 
and  Mrs.  Fuller  (Emily  Foster),  for  the  latter  of  whom  this 
gifted  writer  entertained  so  warm  an  attachment.  The  reader 
will  find  evidence  of  this  friendship  in  the  second  volume  of 
this  work.— E.  P.*] 

Our  introduction  (says  Mrs.  Dawson)  to  Washington 
Irving,  at  Dresden,  was  fraught  with  a  peculiar  interest  to  him 
from  circumstances  I  will  narrate  hereafter.  His  mind  was  fall 
of  kindly  sentiments  toward  us,  long  before  he  had  seen  us. 
The  introduction  itself  was  simple  enough,  and  in  the  usual 
routine.  Our  opera  box,  engaged  for  the  season,  was  the  re- 
sort generally  of  our  friends.  There  has  been  spent  many  a 
pleasant  half  hour  with  some,  then  young  and  happy  as  our- 
selves, who  have  since  been  distinguished  in  the  world's  history 
— young  diplomats,  now  grown  into  powerful  plenipotentiaries, 
who  make  treaties  (and  perhaps  break  them) — young  English 
officers,  whose  names,  as  leaders  of  our  splendid  army  in  some 
of  its  most  splendid  achievements,  have  since  "  been  famous  in 
story."  Whatever  of  beauty,  or  fashion,  or  wit,  or  rank,  was 
assembled  in  Dresden,  that  classic  little  capital  (the  so-called 
Florence  of  Germanj'),  found  its  way,  sooner  or  later,  into  our 
roomy  and  comfortable  opera  box,  to  talk  over  the  last  Court 
ball,  the  last  new  work,  or  the  enchanting  music ;  for  the  old 

*  These  original  letters  and  anecdotes  were  received  too  late  to  be  in- 
corporated in  their  proper  place  in  this  work,  but  have  been  considered 
too  interesting  to  be  omitted.  There  has  not  been  time  to  communicate 
with  Mr.  Pierre  Irving,  that  he  might  insert  them. — E.  P. 


appendix.  339 

King,  who  constantly  attended  the  representations  at  the  opera, 
made  it  almost  an  object  for  his  council  of  state,  that  the  most 
perfect  singers  should  be  secured  both  for  the  opera  and  his 
Chapelle  Royale. 

It  was  no  matter  of  surprise  to  us,  therefore,  that  Washing- 
ton Irving  should  be  brought  to  be  presented  to  us  between  the 
acts  of  "  La  Gazza  Ladra ; "  but  it  was  a  great  matter  of  sur- 
prise to  his  friends,  to  see  the  sparkling  eye  and  animated  look 
with  which  Washington  Irving  addressed  himself  to  his  new 
acquaintances.  It  was  not  his  wont  to  seek  new  friends,  but 
rather  to  retire  within  himself  the  moment  any  new  face  pre- 
sented itself;  and  yet  here  he  had  eagerly  sought  the  introduction, 
and  quietly  remained  at  his  post  the  rest  of  the  evening,  making 
rapid  progress  in  our  good  graces,  and  enjoying,  evidently,  his 
seat  beside  us. 

The  circumstances  which  had  thus  attracted  him  toward  us 
were  certainly  rather  curious,  but  to  some  persons  they  would 
have  been  comparatively  unimportant.  On  him  the  effect  was 
different,  and  the  seeds  were  thus  first  sown  of  a  friendship 
that  was  to  last  for  life. 

It  appears  that,  some  time  previously,  my  mother  had  Avrit- 
ten  to  her  eldest  daughter,  in  England,  a  full  and  affectionate 
letter.  In  it,  as  was  her  custom,  she  enlarged  on  the  works 
she  was  then  reading.  These  works  happened  to  be  Mr. 
living's.  With  all  the  warmth  and  enthusiasm  of  her  nature 
she  had  commented  on,  and  commended  them,  and  finished  her 
letter  by  transcribing  a  favorite  passage  from  the  "  Sketch 
Book,''  at  the  bottom  of  which  she  wrote  the  author's  name  in 
full — lYashitigtnn  Irving — not  leaving  room  for  her  own  signa- 
ture. This  letter  miscarried,  and  the  police  opened  it.  They 
found  no  name  but  Washington  Irving'?,  and  not  pushing  their 
inquiries  farther,  or  not  understanding  English — if  they  did, 
they  took  this  name  as  clear  testimony  that  he  was  the  writer 
of  the  letter — and  knowing  his  whereabouts,  returned  it  to 
him,  as  they  supposed,  in  the  usual  course  of  business.  Be  it 
borne  in  mind,  that  this  was  not  one  of  those  tiny  missives,  on 


340  APPENDIX. 

a  glossy  and  scented  page  of  "  Queen's  Size  Ivory — Best,"  but 
an  old-fashioned  sheet  of  the  largest  dimensions,  filled  from  end 
to  end,  every  fold  and  corner  written  over,  and  every  end  and 
corner  perused  by  his  curious  eye — feeling  himself  fully  justified 
in  doing  what  the  police  ought  to  have  done  before,  to  find  out 
some  clue  to  the  real  owner,  to  whom  he  might  restore  it.  He 
told  us,  afterward,  that  no  praise  had  ever  seemed  to  him  so 
sweet,  so  genuine,  as  what  he  so  unexpectedly  found  in  those 
lines. 

It  should  be  perhaps  remembered,  that  he  was  particularly 
sensitive  to  praise — not  from  vanity,  but  modesty  ;  that  is  to 
say,  he  constantly  needed  the  encouragement  it  afforded  him, 
to  keep  his  courage  up  to  the  proper  height,  or  else  he  had  not 
spirits  to  write. 

Besides  that,  the  letter,  in  its  affectionate  details,  was  ex- 
actly "  after  his  own  heart ; "  and,  as  he  himself  expressed  it, 
"  this  little  peep  behind  the  curtain  at  the  domestic  habits  and 
feelings  and  events  of  our  family  circle,  pleased  and  interested 
him  beyond  measure,  and  chimed  in  with  his  own  tastes,  occu- 
pations, and  pursuits." 

He  had,  at  the  time  he  received  it  (being  in  Vienna),  little 
thought  of  meeting  the  writer,  who  evidently  wrote  from  Dres- 
den ;  but  being  arrived  there,  and  becoming  intimate  with  a 
cousin  of  ours,  he  soon  put  two  and  two  together,  sought  an 
introduction,  realized  his  suspicions,  and  eventually  brought  the 
letter,  which  we  reread  together  with  much  amusement,  and 
finally  forwarded  it  to  its  original  destination,  with  a  few  lines 
from  Irving  himself,  adding  the  account  of  the  new  and  charm- 
ing friendship  which  that  letter  had  originated,  if  not  cemented. 

To  return  to  our  opera  box.  Here  a  friendly  footing  was 
at  once  established  by  himself;  for,  only  awaiting  a  moment 
when  the  box  was  rather  clear  of  visitors,  Mr.  Irving,  turning 
to  my  mother,  with  a  bright  smile,  inquired  : 

"  Have  you  lately  heard  from  Miss  Margaret  ?  " 

Now  was  our  turn  to  be  puzzled  ;  for  this  was  one  of 
my  sisters,  far  away,   who   had   remained   in   England   with 


APPENDIX.  341 

my  father  in  rather  delicate  health,  and  quite  unknown  to  any 
present. 

A  rapid  questioning  on  both  sides  followed.  "  Mr.  Foster  " 
(ray  father)  "liked  his  journey  to  the  north,  I  hope?  "  contin- 
ued Mr.  Irving. 

My  mother  looked  more  amazed.  "  And,"  continued  Mr. 
Irving,  with  evident  enjoyment,  "  and  I  hope  poor  Bessie " 
(my  sister's  favorite  horse)  liis  better?  " 

My  mother  broke  in  :  "  How  did  you  know  ? — how  could 
you  tell " 

"  Ah,"  said  Mr.  Irving,  "  there's  the  mystery  !  " 

He  then  entered  into  the  little  detail  which  has  been  given 
in  his  letter,  and  here  we  were  at  once  established  friends. 

SECOND    ATTACHMENT,    AND    "  EMILY." 

Yes ;  and  we  were,  at  once  established  friends.  Here  be- 
gan that  almost  daily  "  intercourse  with  our  family,  which  he 
remembered  with  lasting  interest."  *  Our  house  did  indeed 
become  his  home.  His  own  letters  bear  witness  to  the  intense 
pleasure  with  which  he  recalled  "  the  many  evenings  of  home- 
felt  enjoyment  I  have  passed  among  you.  They  are  the  sweet- 
est moments  I  have  passed  in  Dresden.  I  would  not  give  one 
such  evening,  spent  in  varied,  animated,  intelligent,  but  un- 
forced and  unostentatious  conversation,  with  now  and  then,  but 
too  rarely,  a  song,  and  now  and  then  a  recollection  from  some 
favorite  author,  or  a  choice  morsel  from  a  scrap  book,  given 
with  beaming  looks  and  beaming  eyes — I  would  not  give  one 
such  evening  for  all  the  routs  and  assemblies  of  the  fashionable 
world." 

Indeed,  from  the  hour  of  that  first  introduction,  few  days 
passed  that  we  were  not  together. 

It  requires  not,  surely,  a  very  acute  observer  to  detect,  that 
not  only  the  truest  friendship  united  him  to  our  family,  but  that 
a  warmer  and  tenderer  interest  gradually  sprang  up. 

•  See  "  Life,"  Vol.  II,  chap,  xxxix. 


342  APPENDIX. 

His  first  attachment  was  known  to  us,  in  all  the  details  that 
since  have  been  given  to  the  world.  An  eminent  writer  has 
stated  "  it  was  his  only  love,"  but  this  is  an  error.  The  author 
of  his  "  Life  and  Letters  "  makes  no  direct  mention  of  it,  pos- 
sibly because  the  object  of  this  second  attachment  still  lives, 
and  has  herself  thrown  a  veil  over  those  warmer  sentiments  on 
the  part  of  Mr.  Irving  which  she  appreciated  but  could  not 
return.  But  as  his  first  attachment  has  been  given  to  the 
world,  it  seems  but  fair  that  those  who  wish  to  study  the 
character  of  one  of  the  most  amiable  of  men,  as  well  as  one 
of  the  most  celebrated  of  our  writers,  should  not  be  misled  by 
the  idea  that  he  passed  in  cold,  bachelor  serenity  through  the 
years  of  his  prime.  This  idea  seems  incongruous  with  the 
character  and  disposition  of  Washington  Irving,  so  eminently 
endowed  with  the  perception  of  all  that  is  lovable  and  attrac- 
tive, and  so  formed  to  enjoy  domestic  life,  of  which  he  is  the 
great  painter. 

Though  locking  in  his  heart  the  sacred  relics  of  his  young 
affection,  and  treasuring  the  sweet  memory  of  that  lovely  girl 
who  bad  been  his  first  love,  there  was  still  a  throbbing  for 
domestic  bliss.  He  himself  recognized  this  in  the  letter  to 
which  I  have  referred.  "  I  have  strong  domestic  feelings  and 
inclinations,  and  feel  sometimes  quite  dreary  and  desolate  when 
they  get  uppermost." 

He  was  then  in  the  pride  and  vigor  of  manhood,  his  whole 
soul  full  of  the  softest  and  most  tender  sensations  ;  beyond  de- 
scription, tremblingly  alive  to  the  beauty  of  everything  in 
nature,  animate  and  inanimate.  I  have  seen  him  watching  the 
turning  of  a  leaf  to  catch  the  sunshine  glistening  on  its  surface. 
With  faith  in  all  that  was  good,  and  enthusiasm  for  all  that 
was  lot ely,  how  could  he  be,  daily,  by  the  side  of  a  fair  young 
girl,  whose  very  name  seemed  music  to  his  ear  (see  his  letter), 
and  which  he  only  permitted  himself  to  write,  with  this  gentle 
excuse  :  "  Emily — I  hope  she  will  excuse  my  apparent  famili- 
arity in  using  her  beautiful  name,  instead  of  the  more  formal 
one  of  Miss  Foster  " — whose  voice  he  longs  to  hear — "  I  would 


APPENDIX.  343 

have  given  anything  to  have  hoard  her  in  her  own  delightful 
way,"  &c. 

"Emily,"  to  whom  lie  wrote  those  lovely  verses,  the  only 
ones  which  appear  in  his  "Life,"  and  in  which  he  describes  her 
so  exefuisitely — could  he  be  thus  constantly  with  one  so  es- 
teemed, so  admired ;  sharing  every  taste,  impression,  and  pur- 
suit ;  meeting  in  gay  and  courtly  halls,  or  by  the  quiet  hearth ; 
wandering  among  delicious  groves,  "  when  all  things  bloomed 
in  lovely  May,"  whiling  away  hours  in  "converse  sweet,"  or 
watching  the  stars  from  the  little  balcony  that  overhung  our 
garden,  and  listening  to  the  rippling  of  its  fountains 

This  was  the  life  he  led  for  weeks — for  months.  His  was 
not  a  nature  to  remain  cold  and  insensible,  to  shut  itself  up  in 
bachelor  security.  A  thousand  long-dormant  hopes  and  visions 
arose.     Every  hope  was  not,  could  not  be,  buried  in  the  tomb. 

His  very  love  for  Matilda  H ,  related  with  trembling  and 

subdued  voice  in  the  dark  shadows  of  twilight,  and  reawaken- 
ing with  all  its  force  the  visions  of  domestic  bliss,  all  stirred 
within  him  hope3  and  aspirations  which  were — never  to  be 
realized ! 

Enough  of  this  at  present.  I  will  recur  to  it  at  some 
future  page. 

HER  MAJESTY  THE  QUEEN  OF  SAXONY  AND  THE  HALF  CROWN. 

December  23(7,  1822. — Mr.  Irving  came  in  with  Barham 
Suras,  to  talk  about  plays,  but  soon  got  on  the  subject  of  his 
yesterday's  adventures  at  the  Schloss,  where  he  had  been  pre- 
sented to  the  old  King  by  the  English  Minister,  and  been  very 
well  received.  We  compared  notes  about  our  presentations  at 
this  curious  old  Court.  He  was  very  much  amused  to  hear 
that  my  mother,  the  evening  she  was  presented,  was  invited, 
as  the  highest  honor  that  could  be  shown  her,  to  sit  down  to 
cards  with  the  old  King,  the  Queen,  and  Prince  Antoine,  to 
play  whist  for  half  a  crown  the  rubber.  Now,  the  flowered 
robe  and  velvet  train  of  Mrs.  Foster,  rich  as  they  were  in  orna- 


344  APPENDIX. 

merit,  had  (forgive  the  confession,  you  matronly  housekeepers !) 
no  pockets.  Money  had  not  been  provided,  or  thought  of,  in 
the  evening's  toilette  !  And  my  mother  found  herself  indebted 
to  the  Queen  of  Saxony  to  the  extent  of  two  whole  shillings 
and  a  sixpence. 

Terrible  dilemma  !  "What  was  to  be  done  ?  A  whisper  to 
the  gilded  chamberlain  behind  her  chair  brought  no  relief ;  he 
was  in  a  similar  predicament,  and  could  offer  her  no  silver,*  or 
gold  either,  but  his  golden  key,  insignia  of  his  office ! 

The  good  old  King  read  some  hidden  trouble  in  my 
mother's  eye,  and  suggested  payment  in  the  morning.  The 
hint  was  taken,  and,  accordingly,  our  trusty  Gottlieb,  the 
head  servant  in  our  household,  with  the  due  sum  in  silver, 
wrapped  in  silver  paper  and  scented  envelope,  was  safely  deliv- 
ered to  her  Majesty,  who  caused  the  messenger  to  be  detained 
till  her  Majesty's  commands  were  committed  to  writing  by  the 
lord  in  waiting,  to  my  mother — pressing  commands  for  Mrs. 
Foster's  acceptance  of  an  invitation  to  a  state  dinner  to  be 
given  the  next  day.  Mr.  Irving  relished  this  half-crown  busi- 
ness exceedingly,  as  a  sample  of  the  curious  mixture  of  sim- 
plicity with  stately  etiquette  at  this  Court. 

MR.    IRVING   AND    THE    METHODISTS    ON    THE    HUDSON. 

February  loth,  1S23. — Mr.  Irving  came  home  with  us  after 
the  opera,  which  is  always  over  early,  and  stayed  a  long  while 
talking  as  usual,  before  he  wished  "  good  night."  He  was  ex- 
ceedingly entertaining,  and  gave  us  a  vivid  description  of  the 
gatherings  of  the  Methodists  in  America,  which  occur  from 
time  to  time,  and  at  one  of  which  he  was  present.  "  These 
gatherings  were  generally  on  a  spot  particularly  well  suited  to 
the  occasion.  Mr.  Irving  described  it  as  a  promontory  or 
peninsula  which  spread  itself  out  in  an  expansion  of  the  Hud- 
son, carpeted  with  verdure,  and  shaded  by  groves  of  splendid 
trees,  while  the  whole  is  backed  by  mountain  scenery  of  great 
beauty.     Here  thousands  of  persons  are  assembled  from  differ- 


APPENDIX.  345 

ent  parts  of  America,  and  remain  encamped  for  three  or  four 
days." 

As  Mr.  Irving  approached  the  place,  lie  said  he  saw  "  in- 
numerable rows  of  carriages,  wagons,  &c,  standing  round ; 
and  the  sound  of  female  voices,  singing  in  chorus,  struck  most 
pleasantly  on  his  ear.  Persons  of  this  sect  pay  particular 
attention  to  their  vocal  music  ;  and  the  psalms  thus  chanted  in 
the  open  air,  by  voices  of  great  power  and  sweetness,  had  a 
solemn  and  a  thrilling  effect.  Some  favorite  preachers  were 
surrounded  by  immense  congregations,  while  others  drew  a 
smaller  number  of  hearers  round  them  ;  but  many  of  them 
would  suddenly  stop,  and  launch  into  severe  anathemas  against 
any  unfortunate  strangers  whose  more  elegant  dress  would 
show  them  to  be  mere  spectators  of  the  scene.  In  other  parts 
of  the  grove,  processions  would  be  seen  moving  slowly  and 
solemnly  along — elders  of  the  tribes  leading  their  flocks  to  this 
holy  place  of  meeting,  and  occasionally  halting  to  offer  up  a 
short  but  fervent  prayer.  But  the  whole  has  such  a  striking 
effect,  that  many  persons  are  converted  at  the  moment — or 
fancy  themselves  so.  The  black  population  throng  to  these 
places  as  much  as  the  white  ;  and  young  girls  would  fall  down 
senseless,  and  lay  so  for  some  time  ;  for,"  says  Mr.  Irving,  "  it 
requires  a  great  struggle  to  send  the  devil  out  of  a  negro ;  but 
when  they  are  once  turned  Methodists,  they  are  the  most 
sturdy  in  their  doctrine." 

Irving  said,  "  that  he  passed  a  group  of  negroes,  an  old 
white-headed  man,  and  several  old  black  women  standing  by 
him,  who  looked  upon  him  with  great  contempt.  The  old 
man,  casting  a  look  over  his  shoulder,  ejaculated  :  'Ay  '  (here 
mentioning  the  name  of  our  holy  Saviour),  '  ay,  He  ivill  carry 
the  day  ! '  as  if  he  were  speaking  of  an  election ;  and  then 
added  :  '  If  God  Almighty  were  not  too  strong  for  the  devil ' 
(here  another  fierce  and  sidelong  look  at  Mr.  Irving),  '  there 
would  be  no  living  in  the  'arth  !  '  We  hope  his  faith  was 
greater  than  his  charity,  and  wished  him  an  increase  of  the  lat- 
ter article.'' 

VtiL.  IV.~15» 


346  APPENDIX. 

The  conversation  then  leading  to  religious  topics,  he  read 
us  some  passages  from  the  Prayer  Book  of  the  Church  of 
England,  commenting  on  its  excellence.  He  read  the  collect 
for  Advent  Sunday,  a  favorite  one  with  him,  expatiating  on 
the  beauty  of  the  language.  Our  house,  he  said,  now  seems  to 
him  his  home.  But  let  only  one  of  the  many  visitors  who  fre- 
quent our  house  come  in,  he  immediately  buttons  himself  up, 
retires  to  his  recess,  sheltered  by  curtains  and  book  stands,  and 
there  stays,  silent  and  uninterested,  till  we  are  again  alone, 
when  his  animation  returns,  his  countenance,  pale  and  languid, 
lights  up,  and  he  becomes  again  the  most  lively  and  interesting 
companion.  He  often  asks  us  to  give  him  subjects  for  a  poem. 
This  evening  he  was  describing  to  us  the  storms  in  America : 
we  gave  him  this  as  a  subject  for  his  verses.  The  poem  was 
never  made ;  or,  if  made,  did  not  satisfy  his  fastidious  taste, 
and  found  its  way  into  the  fire,  with  many  other  similar  at- 
tempts, which  he  destroyed  in  a  similar  manner.  It  would 
have  been  his  pleasure  to  have  written  much  more  for  himseif, 
and  less  for  the  public ;  as  he  says  in  one  of  his  letters : 
'  Could  I  afford  it,  I  should  like  to"  write,  and  lay  my  writings 
aside  when  finished.  There  is  an  independent  delight  in  study, 
and  in  the  creative  exercise  of  the  pen."  And  yet,  at  this 
time,  his  pen  was  almost  idle.  The  poem  which  was  to  de- 
scribe storms  in  America  never  appeared.  "We  little  dreamed, 
at  that  time,  that  experience  would  show  us,  soon  after,  as  we 
travelled  toward  the  haunted  mountain  of  the  Hartz,  a  storm, 
which  Irving  himself,  bewildered  and  terrified  by  its  effects  on 
our  small  party,  owned  was  equal  in  grandeur,  and  also  in  its 
awful  ravages,  to  those  of  his  own  country. 

ROYAL    VISITORS    AND    GENERA.L    CANIKOF. 

February,  1823. — Mr.  Irving  was  describing  with  admi- 
rable humor,  to  the  three  philosophers,  the  scene  at  General 
Canikof 's  last  night. 

The  old  General  (he  is  Russian  Minister  here)  has  often 
been  taxed  by  the  young  ladies  in  Dresden  with  want  of  gal- 


APPENDIX.  347 

lantry,  in  not  giving  a  ball.  "  Yet,"  said  Mr.  Irving,  "  the  old 
General  adores  the  young  ladies ;  and  lately,  at  a  bal  masque, 
came  out  with  silver  wing.-,  and  blue-and-silver  tunic,  in  the 
character  of  '  Papillon.'  "  The  old  General  had  the  reputation 
of  being  tant  soit  pen,  avare  ;  but  let  that  pass.  The  visit  of 
the  two  young  princes  of  Prussia  to  the  court  of  Dresden, 
formed  an  admirable  pretext.  Society  called  on  the  General 
for  a  ball,  and  the  General  determined  to  do  the  thing  well. 
His  magnificent  saloons  were  thrown  open.  A  gorgeous  scene 
presented  itself.  Nobles  in  all  the  gay  uniforms  of  foreign 
courts,  and  the  princes  of  our  own ;  Prince  Frederic,  with  his 
pale  and  intelligent  countenance,  the  heir  of  the  throne,  though 
destined  to  enjoy  it  but  a  brief  period — his  reign  and  his  life 
subsequently  being  cut  short  by  a  melancholy  accident,  which 
plunged  his  country  into  tears  and  mourning ;  Prince  John, 
the  youngest  and  perhaps  the  handsomest  of  his  family  ;  the 
present  sovereign,  then  a  young  and  happy  bridegroom,  whose 
nuptials  with  the  lovely  Princess  Amelia  of  Bavaria  had  so 
recently  been  celebrated ;  and  last,  though  not  least,  the  visit- 
ors of  the  day,  the  two  princes  of  Prussia. 

Irving  and  we  tried  to  make  out  the  future  politicians  in 
the  gay  young  princes,  whose  whole  being,  soul  and  body, 
seemed  absorbed  in  the  ins  and  outs  of  the  dance.  One  of 
these  young  men  is  now  the  King  of  Prussia.  Their  father 
never  visited  the  Saxon  Court  since  the  events  well  known  to 
historians,  which  he  felt  must  have  made  his  presence  so  ob- 
noxious in  this  country  ;  but  the  young  men  came,  and  a  right 
courtly  welcome  they  had,  and  right  well  did  they  appear  to 
enjoy  it. 

"Well,  as  Mr.  Irving  rightly  described  it,  gay  and  magnifi- 
cent indeed  were  the  state  reception  rooms  of  the  old  General. 
Sea-green  satin,  of  the  richest  material  and  most  tender  hue, 
formed  the  curtains,  the  draped  recesses,  and,  above  all,  cov- 
ered the  large  centre  ottomans,  on  which  had,  as  yet,  only 
reposed  ladies  of  high  rank  and  magnates  of  the  land,  on  rare 
and  state  occasions.     We  have  already  stated,  that  the  worthy 


348  APPENDIX. 

old  General  was,  to  speak  in  the  mildest  form,  a  little  particu* 
lar.  "With  what  horror,  then,  did  he  gaze  around  him,  as  he 
beheld  advancing  the  animated  procession  of  the  Grandphre 
(the  concluding  dance  of  the  evening),  headed  by  the  young 
Prince  of  Prussia,  the  present  much-canvassed  king  of  that 
country,  leading  the  van,  hand  in  hand  with  the  lovely  Coun- 
tess Palfy,  and  followed  by  an  emulous  train  of  dancers  cf 
courtly  rank.  When  he  beheld  the  Prince  of  Prussia  and  his 
partner,  after  threading,  at  a  flying  pace,  room  after  room  of 
his  suite  of  apartments,  and  in  the  fashion  of  the  dance,  a  sort 
of  "Sir  Roger  de  Coverley,"  enacting  a  follow-my-leader  chase 
between  chairs  stiff  with  gold,  and  buhl  tables  loaded  with  ex- 
quisite china ;  finally,  by  a  fresh  whim  of  the  young  prince, 
return  to  the  grand  saloon,  and  trip  their  way  across  the  whole 
extent  on  to  the  wide  and  massive  chimney  place  beyond — this 
was  cruel  enough ;  but  when,  with  a  slip  and  a  bound,  prince, 
and  count,  and  lady  fair,  following  their  joyous  leaders,  sprang 
on  the  devoted  ottoman,  and  traversed  its  full  length  of  sea- 
green  cushions  with  their  many  "trampling  feet,"  poor  Canikof 
looked,  and  shook,  and  trembled,  and  almost  cried ! 

Irving  laughed  tears  as  he  remembered  his  dismay,  and, 
with  his  constitutional  humor,  described  to  us,  as  he  imagined 
it,  the  scene  of  the  following  morning :  the  old  General,  his 
shambling  figure,  and  small,  wizened  face,  bowed  down  with 
anxious  scrutiny  over  his  beloved  and  desecrated  ottoman, 
counting  the  footprints  left  on  its  glossy  surface — the  footprints 
of  future  monarchs,  it  is  true  ;  that  was  some  consolation  to  the 
sorrowing  diplomatist.  Perhaps,  among  all  the  troubles  his 
faithful  but  independent  subjects  cause  him,  his  present  Majesty 
of  Prussia,  then  the  gayest  of  the  youthful  band  of  princes 
present  that  evening  at  this  eventful  ball,  and  leader  of  the 
inroad  of  that  gay  train  over  and  among  the  old  General's  sea- 
green  satins,  and  over  his  hitherto  immaculate  ottoman,  if  his 
thoughts  ever  wander  back  so  far,  would  still  find  a  smile  for 
the  memory  of  that  youthful  folly.  May  all  his  follies  prove 
as  innocent ! 


APPENDIX.  349 


TIIE    POLES,    ITALIANS,    AND    THE    SPY. 

There  are  few. musical  amateurs  of  some  few  3-ears'  stand- 
ing, who  were  not  familiar  with  a  beautiful  melody  known  by 
the  name  of  "  Oginski's  Folonaise."  It  was  full  of  tender  and 
melancholy  symphonies.  The  composer  was  a  Russian  Pole — 
oh,  conjunction  hateful  to  the  Polish  car  !  It  excited  unusual 
interest  in  English  circles,  as  coming  accompanied  with  the 
story — a  true  one — that  it  was  composed  by  him  a  few  hours 
before  his  anticipated  death ;  as  tyranny  and  persecution  had 
driven  him  to  the  determination  to  put  a  period  to  his  life  with 
his  own  hands,  at  the  early  age  of  twenty-four.  Indeed,  he 
shortly  afterward  shot  himself  with  a  pistol  he  had  loaded  for 
the  purpose,  and  was  found  bathed  in  his  blood,  and  supposed 
to  be  dead  ;  but  the  wound  was  not  mortal.  Under  the  care 
of  his  friends,  and  his  medical  adviser,  he  recovered  eventually, 
and  we  were  this  evening  introduced  to  a  noble-looking  vet- 
eran, with  gray  hair  floating  round  a  countenance  of  great 
vigor  and  intelligence  :  this  was  Oginski.  Mr.  Irving,  whose 
dislike  to  strangers  does  not  include  the  Poles  [happily  for  our 
house,  the  home  of  an  English  family  is  the  only  place  where 
they  feel  they  can  speak  with  freedom  of  their  friends,  and  of 
that  country  so  dear  to  their  hearts) — Mr.  Irving,  I  was  say- 
ing, entered  gladly  into  conversation  with  him,  especially  when 
he,  too,  found  this  was  Oginski,  the  author  of  the  celebrated 
"  Polonaise,"  whose  touching  notes  had  often  brought  tears 
into  the  eyes  of  many  a  romantic  young  maiden,  as  she  hung 
over  her  pianoforte,  and  wept  his  untimely  death. 

His  career  was  not,  however,  yet  over,  and  his  age  was  yet 
to  afford  fresh  matter  for  tears  to  the  sentimental,  and  for  deep, 
brooding  vengeance  to  his  countrymen  and  countrywomen. 
He  was  arrested  for  some  light  words  spoken  against  the  Rus- 
sian Government  in  a  private  salon.  Yet  how  shall  we  ex- 
plain it  to  English  ears  ?  In  this  polished  and  refined  societe — ' 
this  brotherhood,  as  Mr.  Irving  termed  it — there  was  always 
one   well-known   individual,   an  attache" — no,   a   hanger-on  of 


350  APPENDIX. 

those  imperial  governments  who  thought  fit  to  attach  such  a 
blot  on  the  blazonry  of  their  splendid  escutcheon :  in  every 
circle,  however  intimate,  in  every  clique,  in  every  coterie,  was 
placed,  by  one  of  these  imperial  governments,  a  spy.  No  mat- 
ter that  a  titled  name,  an  elegant  exterior,  clothed  the  thing  ; 
it  existed,  it  moved  softly  on  silken  carpets,  it  smiled  blandly 
and  complacently  at  the  passing  joke,  the  little  jeu  d'esprit  that 
whiled  away  an  hour.  The  modest  rhymes  of  the  bouts  rimes, 
that  favorite  resource  of  lively  and  witty  brains,  were  not  too 
insignificant  for  its  searching  eye  ;  its  ear  caught  every  obser- 
vation, nay,  every  intonation,  and  Government  measures  of  the 
most  stringent  nature  were  suddenly  taken  against  individuals 
who  were  utterly  unconscious  of  offence,  and  who  had  no  wish 
to  break  any  laws,  human  or  divine.  Some  such  fate  overtook 
Oginski,  if  we  are  rightly  informed ;  and  the  cruelty  of  Rus- 
sian laws  made  wretched  and  miserable  the  remnant  of  this  old 
man's  life,  who  had  been  saved  almost  by  a  miracle  from  the 
suicidal  act  of  his  own  hand,  forty  years  before.  To  the  shame 
of  that  Government  be  it  spoken,  that  not  only  was  he  sen- 
tenced to  be  transferred  to  Siberia,  but  mutilation  of  that  noble 
countenance  was  resorted  to,  to  add  to  the  sufferings  of  an  old 
man  of  sixty-four. 

Several  other  similar  instances  fell  under  our  immediate 
knowledge,  and  our  personal  friends  were  victims  of  a  tyranny 
comprehensive  and  malicious  beyond  the  imagination  of  an 
Englishman. 

A  friend  of  ours,  of  a  noble  Venetian  family,  a  Count 
C (but  even  yet  the  name  of  one  against  whom  the  Aus- 
trian Government  has  put  its  mark  must  not  be  given  at  length 

till  that  unhappy  country  be  free) — well,  a  Count  C was 

anxious  to  return  for  a  few  months  to  Venice,  to  see  his  father, 
who  was  ill,  and  even,  as  he  feared,  dying.  His  father  had 
published  a  work  on  the  arts,  of  great  celebrity,  splendidly 
illustrated,  many  of  the  drawings  being  by  his  son  (our  friend), 
who,  like  his  father,  though  he  entertained  liberal  sentiments, 
was  totally  devoid  of  political  intrigue,  and  only  desirous  of 


APPENDIX  351 

spending  his  life  in  studying  the  arts,  and  in  peaceful  enjoy- 
ment of  the  society  of  affectionate  and  intellectual  friends. 

The  intended  journey  was  named  but  to  a  few,  considered 
m£t  and  true  friends,  and  only  a  brief  interval  was  to  elapse 
before  he  started ;  but,  brief  as  it  was,  it  was  long  enough  for 
the  spy  to  inform  his  Government,  and  a  mandate  was  on  its 
way  forbidding  him  to  leave  Dresden  under  any  pretext  what- 
ever.    But  where   spies  are,   there   are  counter  spies,   and  a 

friendly  hint  readied  Count  C .     A  few  hours  remained 

before  the  mandate  could  arrive.  These  were  well  employed  ; 
and  the  Venetian,  at  the  instigation  of  friends  more  deeply 
versed  in  political  resources  than  himself,  provided  himself  in- 
stan'lv  with  a  permit  from  the  Pope's  Nuncio,  superseding  all 
other  hindrances,  started  off  at  once,  and  succeeded  thus  in 
eluding  all  the  traps  and  snares  with  which  he  was  to  be  en- 
compassed, and  reached  his  sea-girt  home  in  time  to  receive  the 
last  blessing  and  the  last  breath  of  his  father ;  after  which  he 
returned  among  us.  No  words  can  paint  the  rage  of  the  dis- 
appointed officials,  who  had  wished  to  punish  both  father  and 
son  by  a  separation  as  cruel  as  it  was  unnecessary. 

MR.    IRVING    RELATES    ANECDOTES,    AND    RECALLS    EVENTS   AND 
FEELINGS    OF    HIS    EARLY    LIFE. 

The  following  remarks,  put  down  at  the  time,  are  interest- 
ing, as  being  word  for  word  what  Irving  said  : 

Mr.  Irving  came  to  us  early,  and  brought  letters  of  Moore's 
and  Walter  Scott,  to  himself,  which  interested  us.  He  spoke 
of  his  favorite  authors  ;  most  warmly  of  Goldsmith's  "  Citizen 
of  the  World."  "  Poor  Goldsmith !  "  added  Mr.  Irving. 
"  Johnson  himself  knew  and  fully  appreciated  his  talents ;  but 
the  satellites  that  crowded  round  that  pompous  star,  looked 
down  upon  poor  Goldsmith,  who  certainly  was  very  inferior  in 
conversation ;  for  it  was  his  foible  to  wish  to  excel  in  every- 
thing, and,  by  trying  to  imitate  Johnson's  way  of  talking,  he 
got  now  and  then  quite  out  of  his  depth.  So  far  went  his 
folly,  that  he  was  quite  chagrined  at  a  man's  excelling  him 


352  APPENDIX. 

even  in  tumbling.  He  went  once  to  Holland  to  teach  English, 
forgetting  it  was  necessary  to  know  Dutch ;  and  walked  over 
France  with  a  flute,  which  he  played  abominably." 

Irving  then  described  Moore's  manner  of  composing  his 
poems.  He  said  :  "  Moore  will  walk  up  and  down  his  garden 
backward  and  forward  for  hours,  conning  over  one  small  verse, 
polishing  it,  turning  it  about,  substituting  one  word  for  another, 
working  at  it  with  indescribable  patience  and  perseverance,  till 
he  had  worked  it  up  to  the  exact  point  at  which  he  was  satis- 
fied ;  then  he  thought  he  had  accomplished  "enough  for  the 
day,  and  came  in  cheerful,  contented,  and  thoroughly  disposed 
to  enjoy  himself." 

Irving  spoke  of  his  own  childhood.  He  said  he  was  con- 
sidered slow  at  school,  but  that,  if  he  could  get  away  with  a 
book,  he  was  happy,  particularly  if  it  were  voyages  and  travels. 
He  would  sit  down  with  it  on  the  roadside,  or  resort  to  a  little 
country  inn,  where  the  old  landlord,  a  simple-hearted  man, 
would  sit  down  beside  him,  and  to  him  he  would  read  aloud  for 
hours. 

He  told  us  he  was  for  some  time  Military  Secretary  to  the 
Governor  of  New  York.  Many  excursions  had  he  to  make  in 
the  country.  The  recollection  of  one  of  these  seemed  particu- 
larly pleasant  to  him,  where  he  inhabited,  with  his  brother,  a 
little  inn  on  the  banks  of  the  Lake  Ontario,  busily  engaged  in 
reading  novels  ;  and  afterward,  having  to  embark  in  a  sloop  on 
the  lake,  they  lost  patience  at  not  making  way.  They  landed 
in  a  boat  to  try  and  get  forward  in  wagons,  but  could  not  push 
forward,  and  were  obliged  to  make  the  best  of  their  way  back 
to  the  sloop,  to  be  well  laughed  at  by  the  companions  they  had 
left.  The  joke  against  them  was  particularly  enjoyed  by  one 
of  the  party,  a  small  but  robust  man,  who  appeared  something 
of  a  wag,  and  had  kept  them  alive  by  his  good  humor  and  his 
jollity. 

It  was  only  on  their  arrival  at  their  destination  that  it 
transpired  among  a  few  of  the  party,  that  their  jolly  friend 
was  a  Catholic  priest,  going  on  a  mission  to  the  interior ;  but 


APPENDIX.  353 

the  good  man,  in  the  slyness  or  simplicity  of  his  heart,  had 
thought  best  to  keep  this  little  fact  back,  and  thereby  joined 
■without  scandal  in  much  of  the  merriment  of  the  party ;  indeed, 
might  be  said  to  have  been  the  great  promoter  of  it.  He  told 
us  many  more  anecdotes  of  his  childhood  and  his  youth. 

Irving  is  an  admirable  relater.  His  countenance  varies 
with  his  mood.  His  smile  is  one  of  the  sweetest  I  know ;  but 
he  can  look  very,  very  sad.  He  looks  sometimes  so  lively,  one 
would  think  he  had  never  had  a  melancholy  moment ;  at  other 
times  so  abattu,  that  he  might  never  have  had  a  gay  one.  He 
judges  himself  with  the  utmost  severity,  feeling  a  deep  depres- 
sion at  what  he  fancies  are  his  shortcoming?,  while  he  kindles 
into  enthusiasm  at  what  is  kind  or  generous  in  those  he  loves : 
■withal,  when  not  oppressed  with  morbid  feelings,  he  rouses 
himself  with  a  happy  facility,  a  genial  glow  lights  his  eye  and 
colors  his  cheek,  and  his  conversation  soon  sparkles  again  with 
■wit  and  humor.  Some  persons,  in  looking  upon  life,  view  it  as 
they  would  view  a  picture,  with  a  stern  and  criticizing  eye. 
He  also  looks  on  life  as  a  picture,  but  to  catch  its  beauties,  its 
lights — not  its  defects  and  its  shadows.  On  the  former  he  loves 
to  dwell.  He  has  a  wonderful  knack  at  shutting  his  eye  to  the 
sinister  side  of  anything.  Never  beat  a  more  kindly  heart 
than  his — alive  to  the  sorrows,  but  not  to  the  faults  of  his 
friends,  but  doubly  alive  to  their  virtues  and  their  goodness. 
Indeed,  people  seemed  to  grow  more  good  with  one  so  unselfish 
and  so  gentle. 

Once  only  do  I  remember  seeing  him  thoroughly  worried 
into  anger,  positive  anger ;  and  it  sat  so  ill  upon  him,  he  could 
not  make  it  out.  We  could  not,  at  first;  and  yet  it  was  down- 
right disgust  and  indignation. 

Perhaps  the  cause  may  not  seem  to  justify  it,  in  an  Ameri- 
can, but  still  I  will  relate  it.  At  least,  it  will  testify  how 
thoroughly,  after  his  own  country,  his  sympathies  were  with 
the  English  ;  how  he  identified  himself  with  them — with  their 
glory,  their  fame — and  shrank,  like  a  true  son  of  the  English 
race,  from  anything  that  could  throw  discredit  on  the  name  of 
Vol.  IV.— (23) 


354  APPENDIX. 

Englishman.     To  explain  these  remarks,  I  refer  to  the  follow- 
ing anecdote : 

ENGLISH   ECCENTRICITIES   AND    IRVING's   ANGER. 

There  was  a  curious  passion  among  the  English  travellers 
of  the  male  sex  at  that  time.  It  was  their  delight  to  indulge 
in  what  they  called  "humbugging  the  natives."  It  will  hardly 
be  believed  to  what  singular  excesses  it  drove  them  ;  and  Mr. 
Irving's  patience  was  sorely  tried,  even  to  breaking  down,  at 
what  he  saw. 

Some  noble  youths — or  who  should,  at  least,  have  been 
noble,  by  their  birthright — some  officers  of  our  army  (who  had 
not  all  youth  for  their  excuse,  since  one  among  them  had  at- 
tained the  rank  of  major) — men  of  fashion,  evinced  their  inge- 
nuity, if  not  their  taste,  in  a  variety  of  attempts  on  the  patience 
and  endurance  of  the  good  old  King  himself.  Did  I  not  record 
facts  well  known  to  all  the  society,  namely,  all  the  corps  dijjfo' 
matique  and  elite  of  Dresden,  it  might  not  be  believed  that 
these  young  men  stationed  themselves  first  in  the  King's  box, 
at  the  opera,  prior  to  his  arrival,  lounging  about  in  every  atti- 
tude that  suited  them  best ;  that  it  was  some  time  before  they 
were  prevailed  upon  to  withdraw  by  the  most  polite  but  urgent 
representation  of  the  officials,  and  not  till  Mr.  Irving  had  him- 
self stepped  from  our  box,  where  he  could  see  the  whole  pro- 
ceeding, and  added  a  stringent  recommendation  to  the  same 
effect.  But  even  then  they  only  removed  to  a  short  distance, 
stationing  themselves  in  the  passage,  where  they  greedily 
seized,  from  the  hands  of  the  petrified  pages,  successive  glasses 
of  ices  and  refreshments,  which  it  was  the  custom  to  carry,  be- 
tween the  acts  of  the  performances,  into  the  royal  box,  for  his 
Majesty  the  old  King,  or  such  members  of  his  family  as  might 
be  present. 

This  was  only  one  instance  out  of  many  in  which  their  zeal 
to  display  their  own  and  their  country's  independence  demon- 
strated itself,  to  the  shame  and  annoyance  of  other  less  ambi- 
tious members  of  the  English  society  then  at  Dresden.     I  need 


APPENDIX.  355 

only  mention  one  more  instance,  in  which  their  active  endeav- 
ors to  surprise  and  upset  the  nerves  of  his  Majesty  were  deci- 
dedly successful. 

Whether  from  the  particular  respect  in  which  he  was  held 
from  his  station,  his  mild  and  benevolent  character,  or  whether 
from  knowledge  of  his  only  weakness — an  amazing  reverence 
for  the  courtly  etiquettes  of  his  race — they  seemed  to  take 
especial  pride  in  making  him  their  butt.  Being  attacked  on  all 
hands  for  not  having,  in  their  late  exploit,  shown  him  sufficient 
"  honor,"  either  as  a  king  or  a  gentleman,  they  declared, 
""Well,  we  will  honor  him  with  a  vengeance."  This  was  sup- 
posed to  be  an  empty  boast.  But  a  few  days  afterward,  the 
King  retired  to  his  country  palace,  where  the  windows  of  his 
bedroom  opened  toward  the  river,  behind  the  old-fashioned 
carvings  of  which  his  Majesty  often  remained  seated,  viewing 
the  tranquil  river  below,  and  solacing  his  mind  from  the  fatigues 
of  ruling  his  little  kingdom — be  it  noticed,  en  passant,  one  of 
the  best  ruled  and  happiest  kingdoms  in  Germany.  An  early 
riser,  he  also  retired  early  to  rest.  By  eleven  o'clock  the  pal- 
ace was  still.  Silence  reigned  around  ;  and  particular  care  was 
taken  never,  if  possible,  to  disturb  the  slumbers  of  the  mon- 
arch. Eleven  o'clock,  then,  was  tolled  out  by  the  huge  old 
bell  of  the  palace.  The  king  slept — all  slept,  or  appeared  to 
do  so.  The  very  river  seemed  to  sleep,  as  it  glided  on  noise- 
lessly under  the  silvery  moonshine  which  reposed  upon  its  sur- 
face ;  when,  suddenly,  a  loud  and  unearthly  sound  was  heard — 
the  clash  of  cymbals,  the  trumpet's  bray,  the  roll  of  drums, 
mixed  with  wild  voices  in  uproarious  merriment.  Such  a 
clamor  had  never  awoke  the  echoes  of  the  dark  woods.  It 
woke  more  than  the  echoes  of  the  dark  woods — it  woke  the  old 
King,  as  tvas  intended,  in  terrible  alarm,  from  his  first  slumber. 
A  rush  was  made  by  all  the  inmates  of  the  palace  to  the  win- 
dows, but  nothing  could  be  seen  ;  nothing  but  the  ruffled  track 
that  a  boat  leaves  upon  the  water,  and,  far  away,  a  dark  speck 
which  some  pronounced  to  be  the  boat  that  had  floated  there, 
close  under  the  royal  windows.     Some  whispered  it  was  a  hor- 


356  APPENDIX. 

rid  water  demon  !  Who  manned  the  boat,  who  plied  the  swift 
oars,  who  made  the  unearthly  and  unseemly  clamor  to  startle 
and  affright  the  sleeping  King,  might  have  remained  a  mystery, 
had  not  the  perpetrators  enjoyed  too  much  their  joke  and  their 
triumph. 

Need  I  say  this  was  a  little  passe  temps  of  the  young  Eng- 
lishmen of  fashion  I  have  already  spoken  of?  But  the  joke 
and  the  triumph  did  not  last  long.  The  old  King,  whose 
"  nerves  had  been  upset,"  was  seriously  indisposed,  some  said 
in  consequence  of  this  "  serenade."  All  the  society  was  in 
arms  against  our  countrymen.  Irving  cut  every  one  of  them 
dead  wherever  he  met  them,  and  they  thought  proper  to  retire 
before  the  storm.  They  fixed  a  day  for  their  departure,  ordered 
post  horses  to  their  large  landau,  in  which  they  contemplated 
moving  off  all  together  to  some  other  city  ;  asked  for  their  bill, 
in  which  the  landlord  included  a  pretty  heavy  sum  for  a  door 
they  had  completely  riddled,  having  made  it  a  mark  for  some 
airguns  they  had  been  experimenting  upon.  This -charge  for 
the  door  they  pronounced  excessive — as  much,  indeed,  as  for  a 
new  door.  The  landlord  vowed  lie  must  have  a  new  door. 
"  Well,  then,  we  will  have  the  old  one,''  they  exclaimed ;  "  we 
pay  for  it ; "  and,  dislocating  the  door  from  its  hinges,  they 
mounted  it  on  the  top  of  their  landau,  and  then  drove  away 
from  Dresden,  where,  if  it  wns  any  satisfaction  to  them,  their 
feats  were  long  the  theme  of  comment  and  conversation. 

We  need  not  say  whether  the  remarks  were  flattering ;  but 
certainly,  if  they  had  not  succeeded  in  "  humbugging,"  they 
did  succeed  in  astonishing  the  natives.  All  this  was  a  source 
of  great  annoyance  to  Mr.  Irving,  who,  as  I  have  said,  identi- 
fied himself  so  much  with  the  English,  and  was  extremely  sen- 
sitive on  the  subject.  Far  from  joining  in  the  French  view  of 
the  subject  of  the  battle  of  Waterloo,  he  entered  most  warmly 
into  the  different  accounts,  then  the  subject  of  much  conversa- 
tion, so  many  military  men  being  at  Dresden.  As  we  were 
young  girls,  not  nineteen,  and  not  much  versed  in  military  tac- 
tics,, a  little  ignorance  in  the  arrangements  of  that  day  may  be 


APPENDIX.  557 

forgiven  us.  Washington  Irving  enlightened  us,  and  gave  us, 
in  his  vivid  and  picturesque  manner,  a  history  of  that  battle. 
He  might  have  stood  in  the  serried  ranks  of  the  squares,  or 
joined  in  the  triumphant  charge  of  the  Guards  ;  and,  as  usual, 
he  had  thrilling  incidents  to  tell,  not  found  in  general  records.* 

"  One  officer  told  me,"  said  Irving,  "  that  he  had  been 
riding  with  several  others,  and  particularly  one  very  fine  young 
man,  who  turned  round,  smiling,  and  then  saying,  '  What  a  hit 
I  had  there  !  '  supposing  a  ball  bad  merely  grazed  him ;  but,  in 
a  moment  or  two,  he  turned  pale,  and  fell  from  his  hor:c.  The 
ball  had  passed  through  his  body,  and  in  ten  minutes  he  died." 

Speaking  of  the  love  of  country,  Irving  referred  to  the 
different  amount  of  love  of  country  manifested  by  moun- 
taineers, or  the  dwellers  upon  plains  and  flat  lands.  He  gave, 
as  a  reason,  that  the  features  of  one  were  strongly  marked,  and 
easily  impressed  themselves  on  the  memory;  while  the  outlines 
of  a  plain  life,  an  unmeaning  face,  were  hard  to  remember ; 
the  strong-marked  features  take  one,  as  it  were,  by  the  nose. 

He  brought  us  his  scrap  book  to  write  in,  while  he  copied 
out,  also,  many  favorite  pieces  into  ours.  I  wrote  for  him,  at 
his  request,  "  0  Primavera,"  and  Wallenstein's  touching  ejacu- 
lation : 

"  Kiinnt  ich  dera  Augenblicke  sagcn 
0  Blcibc  doch,  du  bist  so  schbn,"  &c. 

Evening  after  evening  is  spent  in  happy  converse.  Why 
is  it  that,  at  times,  a  deep  shade  gathers  on  his  brow  ?  Yes- 
terday, a  large  party  were  here — De  Rumignys,  the  French 
Minister,  the  young  Countess  Loos  and  her  fiance  Baron 
Kleist,  the  favorite  of  the  King  of  Prussia,  Prince  Schomburg, 
Campusano,  the  Spanish  Minister,  pretty  Madame  De  Bergh, 
the  wife  of  the  Danish  Minister,  who  cannot  be  presented  at 
Court  for  some  court  punctilio,  but  consoles  herself  with  sing- 
ing the  sweetest  of  Danish  melodies  and  Swedish  songs ;  in 
short,  all  good,  kind-hearted  people  Irving  has  learned  to  like, 

*  For  general  account,  see  "  Journal  of  Flora  Foster,"  Dresden,  1823. 


g5S  APPENDIX. 

to  some  extent  at  least.  He  was  languid,  pale,  depressed  be- 
yond measure,  and  hardly  spoke  ;  yet  he  did  not  leave  us  till 
all  the  world  was  gone,  nor,  indeed,  till'  long  after.  He  said 
he  would  write  in  the  morning. 

He  has  written.     He  has  confessed  to  my  mother,  as  to  a 

true  and  dear  friend,  his  love  for  E ,  and  his  conviction  of 

its  utter  hopelessness.  He  feels  himself  unable  to  combat  it. 
He  thinks  he  must  try,  by  absence,  to  bring  more  peace  to  his 
mind.  Yet  he  cannot  bear  to  give  up  our  friendship — an  inter- 
course become  so  dear  to  him,  and  so  necessary  to  his  daily 
happiness.     Poor  Irving ! 

Irving  has  sent  lovely  verses  to  "  Emily,"  on  her  birthday. 

He  has  almost  resolved  to  make  a  tour  in  Silesia,  which 
"will  keep  him  absent  for  a  few  weeks. 

My  mother  encourages  him  to  do  so,  and  leads  him  to  hope 
that,  on  his  return,  he  will  feel  more  cheerful  and  contented. 
He  sometimes  thinks  he  had  better  never  return. 

That  would  be  too  sad. 

Irving  went  with  us  (will  it  be  our  last  ramble  together  ?) 
on  a  half-driving,  half-walking  expedition  into  the  country. 

CANNON  BALLS,  AND  THE  HERO'S  LEG. 

As  we  passed  along,  Mr.  Irving  was  much  struck  with  the 
care  with  which  the  inhabitants  (whose  houses  had  suffered  in 
the  battles  fought  near  Dresden,  on  the  return  of  the  unfortu- 
nate French  armies  from  Russia)  had  picked  up  the  cannon 
balls  which  had  destroyed  their  houses  and  laid  bare  their 
hearths,  and  built  them  in  conspicuous  places  into  the  facades 
of  their  new  houses.  The  smallest  cottage  was  scarcely  with- 
out its  cannon  ball,  protruding  half  its  black  round  surface  from 
the  white  plastering  of  the  wall ;  while  many  small  tenements 
or  farmhouses  had  nine  or  ten. 

Mr.  Irving,  not  then  a  proficient  in  German,  got  us  to  copy 
out  for  him  a  simple  inscription  under  one  of  these  memorials, 
and  over  the  entrance  door  of  a  pretty  little  village  dairy  farm- 
house. 


APPENDIX.  359 

The  house  itself  seemed  almost  buried  in  its  orchard  trees, 
on  which  were  clusters  of  the  snowy  flowers  of  the  pear,  and 
pink-and-white  blossoms  of  the  apple.  A  tiny  stream  of  clear 
water  washed  its  way  over  a  few  large  stones  into  a  narrow 
water  course,  over  which  hung  the  quivering  leaves  of  many  a 
water  plant,  under  which  peeped  out  the  yellow  primrose  and 
the  gay  daffodil.  The  rustic  garden  was  spread  out  along  one 
bank  of  the  little  rivulet,  and  the  pale  honeysuckle  flaunted 
about  its  long  branches,  and  :cented  the  morning  breeze  with 
its  sweetest  of  perfumes.  There  was  something  delightful  in 
this  little  scene,  which  for  a  moment  quite  riveted  the  author 
of  the  "  Sketch  Book  "  to  the  spot. 

The  following  was  the  inscription  above  alluded  to,  which 
Mr.  Irving  afterward  copied  into  his  album,  after  making  an 
ineffectual  attempt  to  translate  into  English  verse  its  simple 
pathos : 

IXSCRll-TION. 

Gott  sey  gedankt  far  seine  Gnade 
Dcr  dicsen  Bau  ohn  alien  Schade 
Anfangen  lassen  und  vollenden 
Er  wolle  feme  bin  abwenden 
Kricg,  Hunger,  Feuer  und  Wasser's  Noth 
Auch  Pcstilenz  und  scnellcn  Todt. 
Samcel  GOHTHEB. 
Amen. 

I  believe  that  not  one  of  our  little  party  turned  from  the 
spot  without  offering  a  momentary  prayer,  that  this  pretty  and 
peaceful  homestead  might  indeed  be  spared  from  fresh  ravages 
of  war,  or  any  of  the  sad  list  of  calamities  against  which  it 
thus,  with  simple  earnestness,  seems  to  invoke  the  protection 
of  Heaven. 

The  inscription  was  enshrined  in  a  bordering  of  quaint  and 
curious  devices  of  many  colors,  which  caught  the  eye  at  once. 

We  continued  our  way  to  the  old  castle  of  "Wesenstein,  of 
which  we  had  heard  so  much  ;  but  were  much  disappointed  to 


360  APPENDIX. 

find  it  a  large  mass  of  whitewashed  buildings,  destitute  of  orna- 
ment or  beauty.  The  site,  however,  was  admirably  chosen, 
and  romantic  in  the  extreme,  for  it  was  built  in  and  on  to  some 
tall,  almost  perpendicular  rocks,  in  every  crevice  of  which  the 
birch  and  the  mountain  ash  had  found  a  footing,  while  the 
glossy  dark  leaves  of  the  ivy,  and  tiny  bunches  of  violets,  dot- 
ted the  face  of  the  gray  rock ;  and  round  the  base  of  the  rock 
grew  in  profusion  the  lily  of  the  valley. 

Mr.  Irving  stooped  down,  and  gathered  a  handful  of  the 
flowers,  distributed  them  among  us,  under  the  promise  that  we 
would  conform  to  his  own  habit.  "  On  very  pleasant  days  like 
this,"  he  said,  "  he  would  gather  a  flower,  dry  it,  and  keep  it  in 
an  album  with  a  date,  and  the  names  of  each  of  the  party." 
In  this  way  he  had  collected  many  memorials  of  happy  hours. 
On  our  return,  he  showed  us  his  book,  in  which  were  many 
flowers  of  many  lands,  the  dates,  the  names — that  was  all  ; 
but,  in  turning  over  its  pages,  what  memories  did  it  recall  ? 
Some  had  been  gathered  on  the  Alps— the  modest  gentian, 
cl»se  to  the  eternal  snows  ;  some  under  the  wild  tamarind  tree, 
in  an  American  forest,  with — one  much  loved ;  some  were  from 
Italy,  under  the  summer  skies  of  that  country  he  so  much  ad- 
mired :  in  speaking  of  it,  he  emoted  the  lines : 

"  There  blossoms,  fruit,  and  flowers  together  rise, 
And  all  the  year  in  gay  confusion  lies." 

One  more  little  anecdote  of  this  pleasant  day.  "We  had 
often  seen,  on  a  bare  and  sunburnt  slope  pointing  toward  Dres- 
den, a  solitary  monument.  It  was  a  plain  block  of  granite. 
On  it  was  sculptured,  in  brass,  a  helmet ;  and  a  broken  sword 
of  the  same  metal  lay  across  the  stone.  This  had  long  been 
pointed  out  to  us  as  MoreaiCs  Monument.  We  were  very  anx- 
ious to  take  Mr.  Irving  to  a  spot  so  interesting,  for  there,  we 
told  him,  reposed  the  ashes  of  a  hero,  though  history  still 
doubts  whether  to  call  him  a  patriot  or  a  traitor.  Accordingly, 
we  made  a  great  effort  to  urge  our  tired  steps  that  way.     Mr. 


APPENDIX.  361 

Irving  rather  smiled  at  our  ciceroncship,  when  he  pointed  to 
the  words  engraved  on  the  monument,  and  rather  wickedly 
enjoyed  our  disappointment,  when  we  read  that  there  reposed 
alone  the  hero's  leg,  he  having  been  transported,  by  the  care 

of  Alexander,  to  die  at  .     However,  he  rather  rallied 

at  the  concluding  line,  which  announced  that  here  he  fell ;  and 
the  spot  was  remarkable  for  something,  after  all. 

HISTORY  OF  HIS    FIRST    LOVE    BROUGHT  TO    US,  AND  RETURNED. 

Mr.  Irving  had  not  been  to  us  for  a  day  or  two,  but  this 
morning  he  came.  He  had  with  him  some  sheets,  many  of 
which  he  had  been  writing.  He  has  long  wished  us  to  know 
every  detail  of  his  first  affection,  but  it  has  been  too  painful  a 
theme  to  him  ever  to  dwell  on  long.  Still  the  desire  was  strong 
within  him  to  communicate  all  to  the  friends  he  loved  so  well. 
And  though  others  could  hardly  have  torn  from  his  lips  one 
word  on  the  subject,  he  felt  as  if  it  would  be  some  consolation 
to  past,  and  perhaps  to  present  sorrows,  to  lay  before  us  the 
history  of  his  first  love. 

It  was  left  with  us  under  a  sacred  promise  that  it  should  be 
returned  to  him  ;  that  no  copy  should  be  taken ;  and  that  no 
other  eyes  but  ours  should  ever  rest  upon  it.  The  promise  was 
faithfully  kept,  though  great  was  the  temptation  to  keep  this 
history  of  his  early  love.  Nothing  he  has  ever  written  was  so 
beautiful,  so  touching. 

There  were  from  sixteen  to  twenty  pages,  touching  on 
many  incidents  of  his  youth,  which  led  him  into  that  deep  and 
intense  attachment  which  was  returned  to  his  heart's  desire  by 
that  sweet  girl.  Their  first,  their  last  interview,  all  was  there  ; 
even  some  faint  description  of  his  broken-hearted  loneliness 
when  that  sweet  dream  was  over. 

Every  word  seems  still  before  me,  though  years  have 
passed  since  I  last  saw  those  pages.  Were  it  not  a  breach  of 
confidence,  of  that  compact  made  between  those,  of  whom  two 
have  been  called  away  into  a  better  and  brighter  world,  I  could 
even  now  recall  the  whole,  in  nearly  his  own  words. 
Vol.  IV.—16 


362  APPENDIX. 

That  he  subsequently  destroyed  this  memorial  of  the  past, 
is  evident.  His  faithful  biographer  puzzles  himself  to  find  for 
whom  it  was  written,  and  when  ;  only  finding  the  first  and  last 
sheet,  which  enabled  him  to  judge  it  was  written  to  a  lady,  and 
that  she  was  married.* 

IRVING's    SECOND    ATTACHMENT  ;     THE    LITTLE    PICTURE    AND 
THE    CONFIDANTE. 

Soon  after  this,  Mr.  Irving,  who  had  again  for  long  felt 
"  the  tenderest  interest  warm  his  bosom,  and  finally  enthral  his 
whole  soul,"  made  one  vigorous  and  valiant  effort  to  free  him- 
'  self  from  a  hopeless  and  consuming  attachment.  My  mother 
counselled  him,  I  believe,  for  the  best,  and  he  left  Dresden  on 
an  expedition  of  several  weeks  into  a  country  he  had  long 
wished  to  see,  though,  in  the  main,  it  disappointed  him ;  and 
he  started  with  young  Colbourne  (son  of  General  Colbourne) 
as  his  companion.  Some  of  his  letters  on  this  journey  are  be- 
fore the  public ;  and  in  the  agitation  and  eagerness  he  there 
described,  on  receiving  and  opening  letters  from  us,  and  the 
tenderness  in  his  replies — the  longing  to  be  once  more  in  the 

*  Note  by  the  Biographer. — The  reader  will  find  a  reference  to  this 
"memorial  of  the  past"  at  pages  213  to  220.  The  impression  of  Mrs. 
Dawson  that  it  was  "  destroyed,"  is  incorrect.  The  biographer  mentions 
sixteen  pages  preserved,  instead  of  "  only  the  first  and  last  sheet,"  as  she 
supposes.  This  fragment  is  numbered  from  page  3  to  page  18,  the  first 
and  second  pages  and  the  last  being  missing.  It  commences  in  the  middle 
of  a  sentence  at  page  3,  and  ends  in  the  same  way  at  page  18.  It  gives, 
as  it  stands,  a  sketch  of  the  author's  life  from  his  entering  the  law  office  of 
Mr.  Hoffman,  in  1802,  to  his  making  the  acquaintance  of  the  Fosters  at 
Dresden,  at  the  close  of  1822.  It  was  written  after  that  acquaintance  had 
ripened  into  the  most  familiar  friendship,  and,  from  its  tone  and  tenor,  was 
evidently  drawn  forth  by  inquiries  which  only  the  most  cordial  and  unre- 
served intimacy  would  warrant.  Some  of  the  paragraphs  begin  :  "  You 
have  more  than  once  spoken  to  me  about  my  family." — "  You  want  to 
know  some  of  the  fancies  that  distress  me." — "  You  wonder  why  I  am  not 
married." — "  I  have  now  talked  to  you  on  subjects  that  I  recur  to  with  ex- 
cessive pain,  and  on  which  I  am  apt  to  be  silent." 


APPENDIX.  3(53 

little  Pavilion,  to  which  we  had  moved  in  the  beginning  of  the 
summer — the  letters  (though  carefully  guarded  by  the  delicacy 
of  her  who  entrusted  them  to  the  editor,  and  alone  retained 
among  many  more  calculated  to  lay  bare  his  true  feelings), 
even  fragmentary  as  they    are,  point  out  the  truth. 

Here  is  the  key  to  the  journey  to  Silesia,  the  return  to 
Dresden,  and,  finally,  to  the  journey  from  Dresden  to  Rotter- 
dam in  our  company,  first  planned  so  as  to  part  at  Cassel, 
where  Mr.  Irving  had  intended  to  leave  us  and  go  down  the 
Rhine,  but  subsequently  could  not  find  in  his  heart  to  part. 
Hence,  after  a  night  of  pale  and  speechless  melancholy,  the 
gay,  animated,  happy  countenance  with  which  he  sprang  to 
our  coach  box  to  take  his  old  seat  on  it,  and  accompany  us  to 
Rotterdam.  There  even  could  he  not  part,  but  joined  us  in 
the  steamboat ;  and,  after  bearing  us  company  as  far  as  a  boat 
could  follow  us,  at  last  tore  himself  away,  to  bury  himself  in 
Paris,  and  try  to  work. 

The  author  of  his  "Life"  bears  witness  to  the  deep  depres- 
sion which  weighed  upon  his  mind,  though  he  apparently  does 
not  know  or  does  not  reveal  the  real  cause.  He  quotes  from 
Mr.  Irving's  memorandum  book :  "  A  strange  horror  dwelt 
upon  his  mind ;  a  dread  of  future  evil ;  a  fear  of  failure  even 
in  his  literary  career ;  a  confession,  which  he  even  at  last  makes 
to  his  brother,  of  being  wretchedly  out  of  spirits."  Again  he 
says  :  "  I  feel  like  a  sailor  who  has  once  more  to  put  to  sea." 
And  no  doubt  his  career,  after  leaving  us,  appeared  to  him,  for 
a  long  time,  dreary  enough.* 

*  While  the  editor  does  not  question  Mr.  Irving's  great  enjoyment  of 
his  intercourse  with  the  Fosters,  or  his  deep  regret  at  parting  from  them, 
he  is  too  familiar  with  his  occasional  fits  of  depression  to  have  drawn  from 
their  recurrence  on  his  return  to  Paris  any  such  inference  as  that  to  which 
the  lady  alludes.  Indeed,  his  "  memorandum  book"  and  letters  show  him 
to  have  had,  at  this  time,  sources  of  anxiety  of  quite  a  different  nature. 
The  allusion  to  his  having  "  to  put  once  more  to  sea,"  evidently  refers  to 
his  anxiety  on  returning  to  his  literary  pursuits,  after  a  season  of  entire 
idleness. — P.  M.  I. 


364:  APPENDIX. 

It  was  fortunate,  perhaps,  that  this  affection  was  returned 
by  the  warmest  friendship  only,  since  it  was  destined  that  the 
accomplishment  of  his  wishes  was  impossible,  for  many  obsta- 
cles which  lay  in  his  way.  And  it  is  with  pleasure  I  can  truly 
say,  that  in  time  he  schooled  himself  to  view,  also  with  friend- 
ship only,  one  who  for  some  time  past  has  been  the  wife  of 
another. 

Though  he  exclaimed,  at  one  time,  "  Oh,  Dresden,  Dres- 
den !  with  what  a  mixture  of  pain,  pleasure,  fondness,  and  im- 
patience I  look  back  upon  it !  "  he  learned,  I  think,  to  banish 
all  these  feelings  but  pleasure  ;  or,  if  any  regrets  did  sometimes 
occur,  the  only  confidante  must  have  been  the  little  picture  sus- 
pended from  the  walls  of  Sunnyside,  and  of  which  it  is  seen 
that  he  himself,  in  a  letter  to  "  Emily,"  says :  "I  treasure  it  as 
a  precious  memorial  of  those  pleasant  days."  This  was  a  gift 
to  him  from  herself — a  little  miniature  copy  of  a  painting  in 
the  Dresden  Gallery  painted  by  herself.* 

I  pass  over  many  happy  days  spent  together,  many  occur- 
rences, though  a  volume  might  be  filled  with  them  ;  accounts 
written  at  the  time  of  the  boar  hunt,  the  private  theatricals  at 
our  house,  the  tableaux  on  his  birthday,  &c. ;  some  as  too 
closely  resembling  the  account  he  has  given  himself,  and  some 
too  long  to  be  inserted  here. 

Some  pages  are  missing  from  my  journal  at  the  time  of  his 
return  from  Silesia ;  but  I  remember  the  meeting  was  a  joyous 
one  on  all  sides.  His  old  habits  were  resumed ;  his  footstep 
was  heard  as  evening  closed  in,  and  his  pale  and  intellectual 
countenance  was  seen  at  the  half-open  door,  saying,  as  plain  as 
words,  "  Can  I  come  in  ? — am  I  welcome  ?  "  some  little  parcel 
always  in  his  hand,  an  old  book  to  look  over  together,  a  new 

*  This  miniature  was  received  by  Mr.  Irving  at  Paris,  four  or  five 
months  after  his  parting  with  the  family,  at  the  close  of  July,  1823,  on 
their  return  to  England.  One  of  the  records  of  his  diary  at  Paris,  under 
date  of  December  15,  1823,  is  as  follows :  "  Return  home,  and  find  parcel 
from  Mrs.  Foster,  with  German  books,  and  miniature  painted  by  Emily." — 
P.  M.  I. 


APPENDIX.  365 

one  to  read,  and,  more  seldom,  but  still  at  short  intervals,  some 
unpublished  manuscript  of  his  own.  On  these  occasions,  strict 
orders  were  given  that  no  visitor  should  be  admitted  till  the 
last  word  had  been  read,  and  the  whole  praised  or  criticised,  as 
the  case  may  be.  Of  criticism,  however,  we  were  very  spare, 
as  a  slight  word  would  put  him  out  of  conceit  with  a  whole 
work. 

-  One  of  the  best  things  he  has  published  was  thrown  aside 
unfinished  for  years,  because  the  friend  to  whom  he  read  it, 
happening,  unfortunately,  not  to  be  well,  and  sleepy,  did  not 
seem  to  take  the  interest  in  it  he  expected.  This  anecdote  he 
repeated  to  us  himself.  Too  easily  discouraged,  it  was  not  till 
the  latter  part  of  his  career  that  he  ever  appreciated  himself  as 
an  author.  One  condemning  whisper  sounded  louder  in  his  ear 
than  the  plaudits  of  thousands. 

DEPARTURE. 

I  will  now  pass  on  to  our  final  departure  from  Dresden,  Mr. 
Irving  accompanying  us  on  our  journey.  He  had  been  very 
fidgetty  for  some  time  previously,  as  this  honor  or  pleasure  had 

been  warmly  solicited  by  Captain  M ,  the  warmhearted  and 

lively  brother  of  our  English  Minister.  He  belonged  to  our 
corps  dramatique  as  well  as  to  the  corps  diplomatique,  and  his 
friendship  had  led  him  to  make  us  the  confidants  of  many  dis- 
tresses, of  which  the  worthy  young  sailor  would  often  come  to 
bemoan  himself  over,  and  go  away  laughing  and  in  high  spir- 
its, with  an  elasticity  belonging  to  his  profession. 

Well,  the  day  of  our  departure  at  last  drew  nigh.  Adieus 
were  multiplied,  visits  paid  and  received ;  many  a  parting  bless- 
ing from  kindhearted  Germans,  many  flowery  compliments  from 
our  French  acquaintances,  many  a  hearty  shake  of  the  hand 
from  our  English  friends,  cheered  our  last  few  days  at  Dresden. 

But  at  last  all  was  ready — trunks  packed,  the  horses  to,  a 
weeping  band  of  affectionate  waiting  maids  pressing  around  us 
to  catch  the  last  glimpse,  the  last  smile,  and  we  mounted  into 
our  carriages ;  one,  a  light  English  barouche,  in  which  were  my 


SQQ  APPENDIX. 

mother,  my  sister,  and  myself,  with  Washington  Irving  on  the 
coach  box,  on  which  exalted  seat  he  was  often  joined  by  one 
or  other  of  the  ladies ;  and  the  other  a  German  travelling  car- 
riage, in  which  were  the  three'  philosophers,  as  Irving  always 
termed  them — my  two  little  brothers,  namely,  and  their  excel- 
lent and  clever  German  tutor. 

An  escort  of  friends,  niounted  on  horses,  gave  our  first  start 
a  gay  and  holiday  appearance. 

These  took  leave  of  us  at  the  end  of  the  first  stage,  and  we 
bade  them  and  the  pretty  domes  and  towers  of  Dresden  a  long 
adieu.  On  we  went  rattling  over  the  chaussee,  still  bearing  in 
our  hands  beautiful  bouquets  brought  to  us  by  Monsieur  le 
Comte  de  Rumigny,  French  Minister,  who,  with  his  wife,  had 
always  been  our  staunch  friends,  and  who,  having  a  large  gar- 
den resplendent  with  flowers,  had  for  some  time  set  apart  more 
than  a  rood  of  it  for  us  whenever  we  liked  to  go  in  and  gather 
bouquets,  or  sit  there  and  read  amid  the  gay  parterre.  "Wash- 
ington Irving  was  full  of  spirits.  He  sang  songs  with  "  Emily" 
— a  new  accomplishment,  or  an  old  one  new  revived,  which  he 
had  kept  back  for  occasions  like  the  present.  I  am  ashamed  to 
say  that,  fatigued  with  the  day's  packing,  I  fell  asleep  to  the 
soothing  melody. 

About  eleven  o'clock,  I  was  startled  out  of  a  confused 
dream  by  a  loud  blast  of  a  horn.  It  was  our  postilion.  Be- 
fore I  had  time  to  recollect  where  we  were,  I  heard  Washing- 
ton Irving's  voice  crying  out,  "  Look  !  look  there  !  "  We  all 
looked,  and,  standing  up  in  the  carriage,  all  gazed  on  the  scene 
before  us.  The  night  was  lovely,  clear,  and  starry ;  the  red 
crescent  of  the  moon  was  just  risen  behind  the  dark  outlines  of 
an  old  tower ;  the  whole  country  lay  dim  and  still  before  us, 
and  the  beautiful  and  silvery  Muldau  reflected  the  moon  in  a 
long  ray  upon  its  rippled  surface.  We  had  time  to  admire  the 
whole,  which  harmonizes  so  well  together  ;  it  invited  the  eyes 
to  look  upon  it,  while  the  ferry  boat  took  us  across. 

We  stopped  to  take  a  little  supper  on  some  provisions  we 
had  brought  with  us,  having  dismounted  while  our  horses  were 


APPENDIX.  3G7 

being  changed  at  a  neat  roadside  inn,  and  where  the  look  of 
the  host  took  Mr.  Irving's  fancy. 

The  lusty  landlord  looked  down  upon  his  own  bulky  shape 
with  great  complacency,  while  he  regarded  Mr.  Irving's  more 
slender  figure  with  great  contempt,  as  he  watched  him  making 
some  ineffectual  attempts  to  shut  our  carriage  door.  "  Ach  !  " 
said  he,  "  Sie  haben  nicht  viel  courage  !  Sie  essen  nicht  genug 
rind-lleisch !  " 

Mr.  Irving  laughed  heartily.  He  said  he  knew  "  that  man 
was  a  character ; "  and  on  we  drove  again,  and  reached  our 
halting  place  at  half  past  twelve.  Our  postilion  sounded  a 
most  knightly  blast  on  his  horn,  which  gained  us  admittance 
after  some  delay,  as  the  warders  were  taking  a  comfortable 
doze  ;  and  we  then  proceeded  to  the  inn  recommended  to  us  by 
our  good  Tropaneger,  the  Philosopher-in-chief,  i.  e.,  tutor  to  our 
young  brothers. 

Mr.  Irving  declared  he  had  noticed  that  our  postilion  prided 
himself  not  a  little  on  the  melody  of  his  horn.  Moreover,  that 
he  seemed  to  pay  particular  honor  to  a  pretty  white  cottage  he 
had  passed ;  and  Mr.  Irving  almost  fancied  he  saw  a  pretty 
little  maiden  timidly  raise  a  chintz  curtain,  and  look  out.  "We 
were  amused  at  the  chintz  curtain,  whose  pattern  he  discovered 
by  no  light  but  the  moon,  and  the  pretty  little  maiden,  who 
some  vowed  was  no  other  than  a  bearded  old  man  in  his  night- 
cap. But  Irving  was  staunch  to  his  story,  and  would  never 
throw  the  pretty  maiden  or  the  chintz  curtain  overboard. 

LEITZIC    AND    POXIATOWSKI. 

The  next  morning,  Mr.  Irving,  who  had  been  already  up  to 
the  observatory,  would  have  us  all  go  also.  It  was  a  tall 
tower,  mounted  by  an  extraordinary  staircase,  that  wound  up 
and  up  the  wall,  seeming  to  grow  out  of  it  without  support ; 
still  he  pressed  us  to  go  forward  and  contemplate  the  view  from 
the  top.  Indeed,  it  was  most  interesting.  It  embraced  an  im- 
mense tract  of  country,  but  it  was  not  that.  Below  us,  at  our 
feet,  was  the  spot  where  was  fought  the  battle  of  Leipzic,  so 


368  APPENDIX. 

fatal  to  Napoleon ;  and  in  that  muddy  stream,  just  where  the 
bank  rises  steep  and  high,  the  gallant  Poniatowski  met  his  fate. 
Devotedly  attached  to  Napoleon,  he  had  fought  his  way  through 
opposing  ranks,  to  rejoin  him  in  the  last  bloody  contest,  to  be 
near  his  person.  He  was  warned  back  again  and  again  by  his 
friends,  even  by  his  eneviies,  by  whom  he  was  held  in  reverence 
and  esteem,  though  so  young,  for  his  generous  and  noble  con- 
duct. He  saw  Napoleon  but  a  short  distance  ahead,  flushed, 
struggling  with  his  own  officers,  who  were  entreating  him  to 
fly.  Napoleon  defeated — in  danger.  He  made  one  more 
effort,  leaped  his  horse  into  the  stream  that  separated  them, 
swam  him  across  the  stream,  and  urged  him  on  to  the  bank  at 
that  spot.  The  horse  sprang  up  it,  but  the  rider,  wounded, 
bleeding,  exhausted,  fell  backward  from  his  saddle,  the  muddy 
waters  of  the  Elsler  closing  over  him  ;  and  so  he  died  !  The 
only  time  Napoleon  wept  on  a  field  of  battle  was  that  day, 
when  some  one  brought  him  news  of  that  sad  loss.  Napoleon 
himself  indeed  suffered  dreadfully  under  the  different  events 
that  passed  rapidly  on  the  scene,  now  so  peaceful,  which  lay 
before  us. 

During  the  first  day's  fighting,  all  seemed  in  his  favor,  and 
he  sent  word  to  have  Te  Deums  sung  in  all  the  churches.  This 
order  was  not  obeyed ;  the  burghers  of  Leipzic  saw  from  their 
walls  what  he  did  not — that  the  other  divisions  of  his  army, 
which  were  fighting  round  Leipzic,  were  all  repulsed ;  and,  in 
fact,  lest  he  should  make  his  retreat  through  Leipzic,  which  lay 
direct  between  him  and  the  main  army,  and  in  fear  lest  the 
French  should  set  that  town  on  fire,  as  they  did  the  villages 
around,  to  cover  their  retreat,  they  closed  their  gates  against 
the  French. 

On  Sunday,  Napoleon  rested.  Monday  was  the  final  de- 
feat. Mr.  Irving  pointed  down  close  under  us  to  a  spot  where 
there  had  been  a  hot  dispute  between  Napoleon  ar»d  his  gen- 
erals. He  wished  to  take  the  field  again,  even  when  driven 
back  upon  Leipzic.  He  went  with  his  drawn  sword  among  the 
soldiers,  but  they  threw  away  their  muskets,  and  refused  to 


APPENDIX.  369 

fight.  He  tried  to  enter  at  two  gates  of  the  town,  and  had  to 
ride  half  round  before  he  got  in. 

So  great  were  the  crowds  retreating  on  all  sides,  that  two 
guards  had  to  take  hold  of  his  horse's  head,  and  strike  right 
and  left  to  make  way  for  him.  The  King  of  Saxony  was 
watching  this  terrible  scene  from  this  very  spot.  Napoleon 
sent  messengers  to  him  to  acquaint  him  that  the  Saxon  troops 
had  gone  over  to  the  Russians,  and  offered  to  take  him  on  to 
Paris  with  himself;  but  the  King  sent  word  that  he  would 
remain,  and  yield  to  his  fate. 

The  events  of  those  days  are  recorded  in  history,  but  there 
was  something  in  the  interest  with  which  "Washington  Irving 
pointed  all  out  to  us,  that  gave  them  a  double  interest  to  us. 

After  dinner,  we  walked  with  Irving  to  see  the  tomb  of 
Poniatowski — white  marble,  on  a  green  sward  near  the  Elsler 
— one  immense  and  beautiful  weeping  willow  shading  it,  while 
others  surround  it  at  a  short  distance. 

THE  HARTZ  AND  THE  AHNFRAU. 

Here  again  I  miss  much.  Old  chateaus  visited,  all  of  which 
had  some  legends  connected  with  them  more  or.  less  curious,  re- 
corded by  Musseus,  whose  work  in  many  volumes  was  our 
evening  study,  when  stopping  for  the  night.  It  was  in  Ger- 
man, but  Mr.  Irving  would  get  us  to  translate  it  to  him. 

DIE    AHNFRAU. 

One  particular  character  we  went  far  out  of  our  way  to  see. 
It  was  the  "  locale  "  of  the  celebrated  "  Ahnfrau,"  a  piece 
which  he  had  seen  acted  at  Vienna,  and  which  had  laid  a 
strong  hold  upon  his  imagination.  The  "  Ahnfrau  "  was  repre- 
sented in  the  piece  by  an  alarming  spectre,  frightful  to  behold, 
to  the  terror  of  a  fair  young  girl  and  her  lover.  Here  we  were 
close  to  the  abode  of  the  "Ahnfrau,"  the  very  real  and  true 
site  of  the  drama ;  and  here  Mr.  Irving  had  ascertained  her 
picture  was  preserved  by  her  descendants. 
Vol.  IV.— 16*         "(24) 


370  APPENDIX. 

The  castle  was  reached  ;  the  family  were  out.  Indeed,  the 
castle  had  long  been  uninhabited,  save  by  the  old  porter  and 
his  family.  Here,  then,  was  a  real  chateau  d  la  Radcliffe. 
Mr.  Irving  rubbed  his  hands  as  the  old  man  walked  before  us, 
rattling  his  bunch  of  keys. 

He  was  for  showing  us  the  chapel,  and  the  hall,  and  the 
clipped  yews  of  the  garden  ;  but  Mr.  Irving  asked  for  the  pic- 
ture gallery,  the  portraits,  the  family  portraits.  We  hardly 
liked  to  name  the  Ahnfrau  in  these  her  own  familiar  precincts. 
We  gathered  up  our  courage,  however.  The  cold,  damp  pas- 
sages inspired  a  chill.  We  kept  together.  Who  knew  what 
ghastly  head  might  peep  over  the  shoulders  of  the  last  comer  ? 
Mr.  Irving  was  all  attention  and  expectation.  At  last  we 
reached  the  picture  gallery.  The  old  porter  would  fain  have 
lingered  over  the  picture  of  his  late  master,  a  mild-looking  gen- 
tleman in  a  bob  wig,  or  his  ladies  in  powdered  hair  and  blue 
satin  bodice.  Still  Mr.  Irving  urged  him  on,  for,  at  the  farther 
end  of  the  gallery,  he  had  discovered  a  high,  narrow,  curtained 
recess.  He  pointed  to  it,  and  eagerly  named  the  awful  name, 
"  Die  Ahnfrau."  "  Go,"  said  the  old  man,  peevishly,  who  did 
not  seem  inclined  to  move  further  than  his  master's  picture. 
Well,  we  went*  Irving  leading  the  van.  His  hand  was  on  the 
curtain.  '  He  drew  it  aside.  Ah  !  what  did  we  behold— a 
spectre  ?  What  loveliness  is  that  ?  So  fair,  so  sweet,  so 
charming  a  face  never  before  was  designed  upon  canvas,  surely. 
This  the  Ahnfrau  ?  Impossible  !  Those  blue,  cerulean  blue 
eyes  that  follow  us  wherever  we  go,  instead  of  the  sightless 
orbits  we  expected ;  the  delicate  features,  the  oval  face,  the 
full,  rich  lips — this  is  a  deception ;  it  cannot  be  !  But  our 
looks  stray  to  her.  dress.  All  is  there  ;  all  is  correct — the 
black  robe,  the  black  mantle  on  the  golden  and  floating  hair, 

the  jewelled  coronet  of  the  Countess  of  B in  her  hands. 

We  looked  with  an  inward  thrill.  "  You  know  the  supersti- 
tion," said  Irving,  "  of  course  ?  If  on  her  hand  appears  a 
white  glove,  she  betokens  a  marriage  to  her  descendants ;  if  on 
her  hand  a  black  idovo,  it  h  death  to  the  beholder." 


APPENDIX. 


371 


What  was  on  her  hand  ?  Well,  it  was  bare  ;  but  a  casket 
by  her  side,  on  which  was  carved  some  ancient  scroll,  indicated 
thereby  the  mystic  emblems  of  fate.  We  strained  our  eyes, 
but  not  a  tip  of  a  finger  for  good  or  evil  could  we  see  through 
the  half-open  lid. 

But  oh  !  that  was  a  great  comfort.  The  little  dog  at  her 
feet,  her  constant  companion  when  she  appears,  was  white. 
We  decided  to  take  that  for  a  happy  omen.  We  gazed  again 
on  that  sweet  face,  drew  the  curtain,  and  retired.  The  old 
porter  had  hobbled  away,  but  the  bright  sunshine  and  the  smell 
of  flowers  in  the  little  garden  were  very  welcome,  although  the 
dreaded  Ahnfrau  had  looked  so  sweet  upon  us. 

WASHINGTON    IRVING,    HIS   RAMBLE   AND   HIS   ROBBERS. 

I  pass  on  rapidly,  more  rapidly  than  we  did,  through  this 
wild  and  romantic  scenery. 

The  storm  has  already  been  described.  The  few  days  spent 
in  Alexis  Bad,  to  recruit,  I  believe,  are  also  described  in  some 
papers  of  my  sister's. 

I  doubt,  however,  whether  Mr.  Irving's  evening  ramble  up 
the  dell  is  related  ;  so  I  will  briefly  record  it' here. 

When,  after  the  tremendous  storm  and  our  tremendous  up- 
set was  over,  we  advanced  into  the  very  heart  of  the  Hartz 
Gebirge,  to  rest  awhile  under  the  shadow  of  the  witch-haunted 
old  Brocken  itself,  we  had  come  with  surprise  (in  the  midst  of 
those  regions  of  almost  impenetrable  wood,  and  among  the 
gray  rocks  and  deep  dells  where  the  eagle  flapped  his  wing 
above  our  heads,  and  the  wild  deer  bounded  across  our  path) 
on  as  gay  a  court  as  ever  assembled  at  the  court  of  Kubezahl 
himself,  the  hoary  old  mountain  king,  who  is  said  to  sleep  his 
sleep  under  the  Hartz  Gebirge,  ready  to  wake  up  a  young  and 
handsome  prince  at  the  end  of  that  time,  a  male  "  beauty " 
without  his  beast.  Some  say  his  beard  has  grown  three  times 
round  the  base  of  the  mountain  all  but  some  few  yards  ;  when 
these  last  yards  are  completed,  the  mountain  will  split  open 
with  a  tremendous  crash,  and  the  handsomest  prince  that  ever 


372  APPENDIX. 

was  seen  will  step  forth  and  rule  over  all  United  Germany, 
which  is  then  to  reach  its  pinnacle  of  glory  and  prosperity. 

Mr.  Irving,  who  had  contemplated  writing  several  stories 
founded  on  these  Hartz  legends,  of  which  there  are  an  innu- 
merable store,  was  very  anxious  to  explore  the  country,  and 
we  were  traversing  it  in  new  and  unhackneyed  traces,  when 
our  fate  and  our  mountain  guides  led  us  to  Alexis  Bad,  where, 
suddenly  turning  the  angle  of  a  huge  rock  (round  which  our 
road  wound  over  a  track  marked  merely  by  a  few  wheel  marks 
on  the  green  sod),  we  beheld  with  amazement  a  large  and  ele- 
gant building,  open  columns  supporting  a  portico,  while  a  broad 
flight  of  stone  steps  led  to  a  green  parterre,  surrounded  by 
other  halls,  and  ornamented  with  statues  and  fountains.  Among 
these,  a  bevy  of  fair  ladies  and  their  lords,  in  all  the  elegance 
of  Paris  costume,  were  wandering  about,  or  lounging  on 
benches,  or  seated  in  groups,  enjoying  the  golden  sunset.  A 
few  of  these  fair  ladies  came  forward,  and  a  mutual  recognition 
took  place,  and  explanations  followed.  The  Duke  of  Anhalt 
Bernburg,  sovereign  of  this  country,  and  the  Duke  of  Anhalt 
Cothen,  with  his  Duchess,  a  fine,  tall  woman,  natural  daughter 
to  the  King  of  Prussia,  were  here  to  drink  the  waters  and  while 
away  a  few  weeks,  after  the  fashion  of  German  princes.  Their 
establishment  of  dames  d'honneur,  chamberlains,  and  aides-de- 
camp,  and  all  the  paraphernalia  of  a  court,  followed  them,  to- 
gether with  some  visitors  from  Dresden  and  Berlin ;  among  the 
latter,  some  friends  of  ours. 

How  several  days  were  spent  here,  I  refer  to  other  papers, 
already,  I  believe,  in  the  possession  of  the  editor.  But  Mr. 
Irving,  in  his  rambling  mood,  ran  himself  into  a  danger  far 
greater  than  he  supposed.  Being  not  like  us,  who  were  amused 
and  pleased  with  this  brief  renewal  of  former  gayeties,  he  be- 
came rather  disgusted  with  this  unexpected  rencontre  with  this 
small  court.  He  said  he  had  hoped  to  find  no  chamberlains  or 
gold  sticks  at  the  foot  of  the  Brocken  ;  he  came  to  look  for 
other  objects ;  and,  while  the  dance  and  the  music  were  merrily 
going  forward,  he  strolled  away  up  the  glen  we  named  the 


APPENDIX.  373 

Eagle's  Glen,  from  having  there  seen  the  most  magnificent 
birds  of  the  species  I  ever  beheld  alive.  On  and  on  he  went, 
"  rapt  in  sweet  and  bitter  fancies."  "Where,  indeed,  he  did 
fancy  himself,  I  do  not  know ;  but  one  thing  was  clear :  where 
he  really  was,  he  did  not  know — which  was  unfortunate,  as 
night  began  to  close  in,  and  no  habitation  seemed  near.  Noth- 
ing but  trees  and  rocks,  and  rocks  and  trees,  everywhere.  He 
trusted  to  meet  a  miner,  for  they  are  generally,  night  and  day, 
at  work  in  different  parts  of  the  forest ;  but  he  was  disap- 
pointed. 

A  grand  procession  of  miners  had  that  evening  taken  place, 
and  all  were  gone  to  Alexis  Bad  to  join,  who  could  shoulder  a 
pickaxe  or  don  the  black  velvet  uniform,  affected  by  their  body 
on  state  occasions.  Here  was  a  dilemma.  He  saw  an  emi- 
nence before  him,  from  which  he  hoped,  at  least,  to  get  a  peep 
of  the  stars,  from  which  he  was  shut  out  in  the  narrow  path 
he  was  pursuing,  by  overhanging  branches  which  closed  over- 
head. Besides,  he  hoped  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  lights  of 
Alexis  Bad.  He  climbed  the  eminence  not  without  difficulty. 
Clinging  to  the  roots  of  the  trees,  and  scrambling  along  as  he 
best  might,  he  reached  the  top  ;  but  hardly  had  he  done  so, 
when  he  saw  a  light,  evidently  the  ruddy  glow  of  a  fire,  throw- 
ing a  red  glare  around.  He  made  at  once  toward  it,  not  doubt- 
ing that  where  there  was  a  fire  there  were  men ;  but  lie  had 
no  sooner  come  in  front  of  it,  than  he  repented  of  his  haste. 
Four  men  lay  around  it,  with  swarthy  faces  and  outlandish  gar- 
ments ;  and  their  countenances,  lit  up  by  the  fitful  blaze  of  the 
fire,  looked  ominously  bad.  They  started  forward  at  his  ap- 
proach ;  and  one  wild-looking,  brawny  fellow,  fixed  his  eyes 
with  a  covetous  stare  on  Mr.  Irving's  gold  chain  which  dangled 
from  his  watch  pocket.  Irving  was  certainly  not  pleased  with 
the  company  he  had  fallen  into ;  but  his  self-possession  did  not 
desert  him  even  for  a  moment,  and,  if  he  did  not  feel  pleasure, 
he  still  thought  it  best  to  affect  it. 

"  Good  evening  to  you,  my  friends,"  said  he,  using  the  few 
words  of  German  he  could  command.     "  I  saw  your  fire  from 


374  APPENDIX. 

below,  and  am  come  to  ask  one  of  you  to  show  me  the  way  to 
Alexis  Bad."  With  that  he  came  still  more  forward,  and 
stood  familiarly  by  them. 

The  men  turned  round  and  consulted  for  a  moment  to- 
gether ;  then  the  oldest,  apparently,  among  them,  spoke  : 

"  We  cannot  go  with  you  to  Alexis  Bad,  but  thither  lies 
your  way." 

They  pointed  to  the  intricacies  of  the  forest,  and  Mr.  Irving 
gave  a  nod.  "  It  is  well,"  he  said  ;  but,  having  given  one  look 
to  the  stars,  the  friendly  stars  above  him,  one  thought  to  the 
direction  in  which  he  had  been  walking,  he  was  sure  the  men 
had  directed  him  wrong — purposely  wrong,  since  no  inhabitant 
of  those  forests  could  be  ignorant  of  the  situation  of  Alexis 
Bad.  However,  with  admirable  coolness,  he  stood  to  warm 
himself  a  few  minutes  by  the  fire,  then  wished  them  all  again 
"  Gute  nacht ; "  then,  following  the  route  they  had  pointed  out, 
which  led  diametrically  opposite  to  the  right  one,  he  com- 
menced quietly  walking  onward.  No  sooner,  however,  did  he 
find  himself  beyond  the  ruddy  glare  of  the  fire,  than  he  threw 
himself  down  into  a  small  hollow  of  the  rock  where  the  grass 
grew  thick  and  high,  and  lying  perdue  and  motionless,  though 
with  ear  and  eye  stretched  to  the  utmost,  he  beheld  exactly 
what  he  expected — the  four  ruffians  stealing  on  after  him  in  the 
track  they  supposed  he  had  followed  at  their  instigation.  In- 
deed, he  heard  a  muttered  oath  of  the  fellow  who  had  eyed  his 
watch  chain,  at  the  folly  which  had  let  him  pass  on.  They  had 
barely  cleared  the  spot  where  he  lay,  passing,  indeed,  within  a 
few  yards  of  him,  when,  with  a  stealthy  movement,  as  of  one 
who  had  before  then  seen  an  Indian  creep  through  the  bushes 
in  the  hunting  fields  of  his  own  America,  he  crept  from  tree  to 
tree  till  he  was  convinced  he  had  the  right  point  of  the  com- 
pass before  him. 

He  still  fancied  that  he  could  hear  the  distant  voices  of  the 
men  growling  that  they  had  not  yet  come  up  with  him,  and 
beating  about  the  bushes  in  the  track  he  had  so  wisely  left. 
He  felt  he  had  no  time  to  lose — now  was  the  time,  or  never. 


APPENDIX.  375 

Rising  to  his  feet,  he  bounded  off  as  fast  as  his  feet  would  beat 
him,  over  moss,  rock,  and  hollow — down  away,  rigbt  among 
trees  and  branches  and  roots  and  briars — now  stumbling,  now 
up  and  away  again,  now  starting  off  with  still  fiercer  speed ; 
for  a  loud  halloo — another  and  another — told  him  his  pursuers 
had  discovered  their  mistake,  and  were  hot  on  his  track. 

Never,  never  had  he  run  such  a  chase.  It  was,  he  felt,  for 
his  life ;  for  these  fellows,  now  they  knew  he  had  detected  their 
real  character  (or  why  should  he  thus  fly  from  them  ?),  would 
not  have  let  him  escape  alive.  He  had  not  liked  the  courtly 
gatherings  below,  but  never  man  flew  faster  through  the  dark 
woods  and  their  dark  denizens  than  he  did  that  night.  It  was 
too  much  for  his  strength  ;  he  felt  it  was  ebbing  from  him. 
More  falls — less  power  to  rise  and  fly  again — his  pursuers  gain- 
ing on  him.  One  look  over  his  shoulder  told  him  the  large 
brawny  fellow  was  within  twenty  paces  of  him.  For  a  mo- 
ment he  thought  all  was  up  with  him,  when  one  more  bound, 
one  more  determined  effort,  and  he  cleared  the  wooded  bank, 
sprang  down  on  the  sward  below,  and  found  himself  directly 
opposite  the  open  door  of  a  little  hut,  where  a  woodsman's 
wife,  her  eldest  son,  and  several  other  workmen  stood  chatting 
together  over  the  gay  doings  up  at  the  Bad.  Here  was  relief, 
help,  safety,  protection,  and  in  right  good  time  too ;  for  Irving 
stood  for  some  instants  speechless  and  breathless  from  his  run, 
but  not  a  little  thankful  to  be  delivered  from  his  four  pursuers, 
who  had  perceived  the  hut  even  before  himself,  and  retreated, 
no  doubt  not  in  the  best  of  tempers,  to  their  lair.  The  young 
woodsman  and  his  friend  walked  back  with  Irving,  and  he  was 
not  sorry  to  be  safe  among  us  once  more.  We  were  very 
severe  on  his  imprudence,  and  would  not  be  satisfied  till  we  had 
exacted  a  promise  that  he  would  never  so  risk  himself  again. 

HANOVER    AND    HESSE    CASSF.L. 

I  pass  over  this  part  of  our  journey,  and  the  days  of  delay 
at  Cassel  before  parting,  and  the  parting  that  was  no  parting. 
Then  the  journey  through  Nimmegen  and  Dusseldorf  to  Rot- 


376  APPENDIX. 

terdam.  There  I  find  our  last  evening  before  our  real  parting 
described  as  follows,  headed  by  an  outline  from  the  original  of 
a  bunch  of  Dutch  currants — so  do  trifles  mix  themselves  up 
with  the  tide  of  human  passions,  crushing  griefs,  and  deep 
despair. 

Mr.  Irving,  like  a  man  expected  to  be  his  own  executioner, 
had  been  out  to  take  our  berths  in  the  steam  vessel.  We  had 
taken  a  dismal  walk  along  the  slimy  canals  of  Rotterdam, 
though  something  neat  and  old-fashioned  in  the  Dutchmen's 
houses  for  a  brief  moment  took  up  Mr.  Irving's  attention.  "We 
had  dined  ;  the  dessert  was  still  on  the  table  ;  there  followed  a 
sorting  of  our  separate  property  in  sketch  books,  memorandum 
ditto,  umbrellas,  boxes,  and  all  the  small  paraphernalia  that 
accumulate  on  such  a  journey  as  ours,  and  with  two  carriages  to 
offer  room  and  shelter  for  many  an  odd  volume  or  writing  case, 
or  "  trap  ;'  of  one  sort  or  another.  Irving  was  in  terrible  spir- 
its. He  gave  mamma  a  beautiful  little  copy  of  Cowper's 
poems,  and  to  each  of  us  some  favorite  book.  Our  tea  and 
evening  were  as  melancholy  as  our  approaching  separation. 
Very  little  was  said ;  little  good  was  achieved  by  moving 
Irving  to  the  sofa.  "We  sat  round,  looking  silently  upon  one 
another.  Little  did  I  expect  we  should  come  home  to  merry 
England  with  such  heavy  hearts. 

"Well,  the  next  day  we  parted,  as  has  been  told  again,  and 
once  again.  The  ship  was  dancing  on  the  bright  waves,  the 
wind  blowing  fresh,  and  all  eyes  and  thoughts  turned  toward 
England.  People  did  not  quite  return  to  England  with  the 
enthusiasm  of  Scott : 

"  Is  there  a  man,  with  soul  so  dead, 
Who  ne'er  to  himself  has  said, 
This  is  my  own,  my  native  land  ?  " 

Whose  heart  has  ne'er Well,  indeed,  I  say  as  before — 

and  it  was  well  with  us — we  were  returning  to  a  happy  home ; 
to  my  father,  loved  and  honored  by  rich  and  poor ;  to  a  happy 
home,  where  the  Gothic  windows  shone  with  the  traces  of 


APPENDIX.  377 

many-colored  lamps  to  welcome  our  arrival ;  and  illuminations 
by  night  and  congratulations  by  day  made  our  return  a  cheer- 
ful one.  But  Irving,  lonely  and  depressed  in  his  crowded 
steamboat,  the  deepest  despondency  hung  upon  his  spirits,  and 
long  benumbed  his  faculties,  and  checked  his  pen.  The  mist, 
however,  cleared  away,  the  kindly  heart  gladdened  once  more. 
Literary  fame  and  honors,  and  hosts  of  friends  and  admirers, 
gradually  encompassed  him  about.  His  brief  share  in  politics 
was  hailed  as  an  epoch,  when  England  and  America  shook 
hands,  and  for  that  brief  period  almost  learned  to  recognize 
each  other's  worth.  His  genial  spirit  shone  on  all,  and 
smoothed  the  lion's  ruffled  mane  without  debasing  the  stripes 
and  stars. 

We  met  again  often.  Not  only  did  he  visit  us  at  our  own 
home,  but  during  the  time  he  was  Secretary  to  the  American  Mis- 
sion ;  and  when,  courted  by  the  noble  and  the  wealthy,  he  had 
to  share  in  all  the  engagements  of  the  corps  diplomatique,  and 
even  sometimes  attend  four  reunions  in  one  day,  he  still  found 
many  an  hour  to  visit  us  in  our  old-fashioned  house  near  Caven- 
dish Square.  There  did  he  love  to  assume  the  habits  of  other 
days,  though  with  more  chastened  feelings,  yet  spirits  buoyant 
as  in  the  first  months  of  our  Dresden  intimacy.  Th,ere  did  he 
pour  out  many  a  glowing  description  of  his  lellissima  Granada, 
and  fill  in  with  many  an  anecdote  his  history  of  his  life  in 
Spain.  The  changes  and  chances  of  married  life  occupied  too 
much  of  my  time  to  keep  up  even  this  valued  friendship  by  a 
continuous  correspondence  ;  but,  amid  joys  and  sorrows,  he  had 
never  been  forgotten,  and  never  did  forget. 

In  the  words  of  a  poet,  who  appreciated  Irving  almost  as 
much  as  we  did  ourselves,  though  not  so  united  by  the  ties  of 
so  intimate  a  friendship  : 

"  Let  Fate  do  her  worst,  there  are  relics  of  joy, 
Bright  dreams  of  the  past  which  she  cannot  destroy, 
Which  come  in  the  night-time  of  sorrow  and  care, 
And  bring  back  the  features  that  joy  used  to  wear  : 
Long,  long  be  my  heart  with  such  memories  stored." 


378  APPENDIX. 

I  stop,  for  this  melancholy  tone  ill  suits  the  cheerful  charac- 
ter of  Irving's  mind  toward  the  latter  part  of  his  life.  Sur- 
rounded by  a  loved  and  loving  family,  he  found  in  them  a  dear, 
domestic  circle.  His  friends,  well  chosen,  were  steady  and 
true  ;  his  country,  admiring  and  grateful.  Let  us  hope  that 
gentle  heart  was  satisfied ;  and  his  soul,  at  peace  with  all,  at 
the  last  passed  without  pain  or  sorrow,  let  us  humbly  trust,  into 
the  regions  of  eternal  bliss. 

Flora  Dawson. 
May,  1863. 


CHAPTEE   XXIV. 

LETTERS,   ETC.,   OP  WASHINGTON     IRVING*  —  JOURNAL    BETWEEN    DRESDEN    AND 
ROTTERDAM,   JULY,   1823. 

Mr.  Irving  dined  with  us.  We  walked  to  the  Grossen 
Garten.  Such  a  lovely  sunset !  All  the  west  was  glowing 
like  living  amber,  fleecy  crimson  clouds  sailing  like  little  islands 
in  a  sea  of  splendor.  It  looked  as  if  the  region  of  fairyland 
were  opened,  and  all  its  treasures  scattered  about.  All  the 
Dresden  cockneys  were  out  to  take,  as  Mr.  Irving  said,  "  the 
smoke  and  air."  Londoners  of  that  class  contrive  to  get .  out 
of  their  smoke ;  the  Dresdeners  like  to  carry  it  with  them. 
Irving  says  "  that  the  pipe  is  the  feature  of  a  German  face, 
like  the  proboscis  of  an  elephant's." 

I  do  not  think  I  ever  saw  Mr.  Irving  so  happy  as  during 
our  day  at  Tharandt.  We  walked  in  what  Gesner  calls  "  Die 
heilige  Hallen  " — tall  beech  woods,  the  ground  enamelled  with 
violet  and  yellow  pansies.  We  have  all  preserved  some  of 
them  in  our  books. 

*  The  following  narrative,  and  the  letters  of  Washington  Irving,  have 
been  derived  from  Mrs.  Fuller,  the  Emily  Foster  referred  to  in  the  second 
volume. 


APPENDIX.  379 

We  have  been  dreadfully  gay  all  the  time  Mr.  Irving  has 
been  at  Prague  ;  but  this  evening  we  took  one  of  our  fa- 
vorite walks  to  an  old  square  farmhouse  on  the  top  of  a  hill, 
that  seems  a  fit  scene  for  some  foul  deed.  Its  wooden  shut- 
ters are  usually  closed,  and  it  is  separated  from  the  road  by  a 
deep,  low  pond,  overhung  with  coarse,  rank,  treacherous-look- 
ing grass  and  rushes,  the  brown  stagnant  water  covered  with 
slimy  weeds,  looking  like  poisonous  verdigris  on  rusty  copper. 
"We  peeped  in,  almost  expecting  to  see  some  horrible  sign  of 
crime  and  murder ;  but,  instead  of  that,  there  was  to-day  a 
pretty  little  wild  duck,  popping,  and  prying,  and  paddling  about 
with  its  scarlet  beak,  starting  its  tail,  and  looking  much  more 
aristocratic  than  its  farmyard  kindred. 

After  the  walk,  I  was  sitting  in  the  dusk  of  twilight,  when 
some  one  rushed  in,  and  I  was  delighted  before  I  quite  recog- 
nized Irving,  looking  very  handsome,  in  a  pair  of  fine  black 
mustaches,  grown  during  his  travels. 

Adieu  to  Dresden  !  Irving  accompanies  us.  We  all  go  in 
the  large  English  carriage  ;  the  boys  and  the  tutor  follow  in  a 
German  one. 

The  night  before  we  arrived  at  Leipzic  was  very  interest- 
ing. In  the  dark  we  traversed  an  almost  bare  plain,  with  only 
a  few  shaggy  trees,  a  dull,  graystone,  half-ruined  tower,  and 
two  tall,  gaunt  wooden  crosses  ;  then  a  black  wood  with  the 
stags  belling.  All  on  a  sudden  there  is  a  loud  blast  of  the  pos- 
tilion's horn.  The. river  Muldau  lay  rippling  before  us,  under 
a  pale,  clear  crescent  moon,  delicately  fretted,  and  embossed 
like  a  sheet  of  dead  silver ;  enclosed  on  all  sides  by  dark,  bushy 
banks.  It  looked,  indeed,  "like  the  calm,  unknown  lake."  As 
we  stopped  at  a  little  wayside  inn  for  a  cup  of  coffee,  all  at 
once  a  band  of  music  struck  up  some  of  our  favorite  waltz 
tunes,  to  which  we  had  all  danced  so  often  in  Dresden.  It 
was  a  wild  farewell  to  Dresden  gayeties. 


380  APPENDIX. 

After  the  fearful  storm,*  or  rather  waterspout,  and  our  up- 
set, we  had  to  travel  three  days  shawlless  and  bonnetless,  as 
we  gave  all  our  things  away  to  that  beautiful  dark  girl  at  the 
inn. 

Between  showers  and  sunbeams,  we  reached  the  Hartz 
Mountains ;  more  like  American  scenery,  Mr.  Irving  said,  than 
anything  he  had  seen  in  Europe.  Hill  over  hill,  richly  mantled 
with  forests  of  vigorous  growth,  pale  poplars,  thick  beeches, 
tufted  limes,  ancient  oaks,  graceful  birches,  the  elegant  land 
weeping  willow,  green  lawns,  deep  valleys,  blue  vistas  and 
crags,  and  rocks  interspersed.  We  all  arrived  in  high  spirits 
at  Alexis  Bad,  and  have  to  squeeze  into  the  smallest  compass 
we  can,  for  this  is  the  great  fifty  years'  anniversary  among  the 
miners. 

Irving  is  quite  in  his  element,  reading  to  us  endless  country 
legends,  full  of  water  nymphs  and  gnomes.  No  wonder  this 
is  the  fairyland  of  Germany.  "We  walked  through  a  rocky 
glen  to  the  Mayde  Sprung  (Maiden's  Leap),  and  beyond  to  a 
most  romantic  spot,  where  are  the  iron  foundries.  I  thought 
of  poor  Fridolin.  We  met  the  three  sovereign  dukes  of  these 
parts,  who  most  politely  asked  us  to  a  ball,  which  we  willingly 
accepted.  Irving  is  pleased  with  the  fine  race  of  people  here. 
He  was  particularly  struck  with  a  miner,  with  whom  he  con- 
versed ;  his  features  were  noble,  and  his  manners  dignified 
and  benevolent.  Irving  called  him  one  of  "  Nature's  gentle- 
men." 

In  the  evening,  we  walked  to  a  lovely  little  valley,  its 
steep,  green  banks  fringed  with  birches.  A  tall,  handsome 
shepherd  was  guiding  a  flock  of  sheep  with  tinkling  bells  over 
the  high,  smooth  downs.  His  costume,  richly  ornamented  with 
embroidered  leather  trappings,  brass,  and  chains,  and  an  inlaid 
crook  under  his  arm,  attracted  our  notice.  When  Mr.  Irving 
asked  what  they  were  for,  he  answered,  with  the  utmost  sim- 
plicity, "  Ein  bisschen  Staat "  (a  little  bit  of  state). 

*  Described  in  the  second  volume,  p.  128.    [In  the  American,  p.  160.] 


APPENDIX.  381 

There  were  tableaux  for  the  Duchess  in  the  evening.  She 
is  a  Prussian  princess,  tall,  dignified,  and  kind,  and,  though  no 
longer  young,  still  handsome. 

Wednesday. — At  the  ball,  the  stupid  chamberlain,  one  of 
the  old-fashioned,  ignorant,  German-court  tribe,  neglected  to 
present  Mr.  Irving,  who  very  properly  walked  off;  and  no 
message  or  entreaty  could  recall  him.  In  vain  the  poor  stupid 
old  chamberlain  scudded  away  in  search  of  him.  The  Grand 
Dukes  sent  flattering  messages,  mamma  and  we  sent  coaxing 
ones — no  Irving  appeared.  This  caused  quite  a  hubbub  among 
the  Hof  Gesindel.  The  fact  was,  as  we  afterward  found,  he 
sallied  forth  on  a  long,  and,  as  it  proved,  dangerous  ramble, 
among  the  endless  forests  far  away,  while  we  were  dancing, 
and  receiving  compliments,  many  of  them  on  his  account ;  for 
the  Grand  Dukes,  and  the  Duchess  more  especially,  expressed 
their  raptures  at  his  books.  After  a  grand  supper,  we  all  went 
on  the  balcony  to  see  the  fireworks.  I  know  not  how  to  de- 
scribe the  magic  effect  of  them  among  these  forests,  rocks,  and 
glens.  As  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  fountains  of  light  in 
every  form,  and  of  every  hue,  spouted  from  the  dark  sides  of 
the  mountains ;  balls  of  fire,  blue,  ruby,  and  golden,  shot  up 
and  illumined  the  trees  with  shadowy  glances,  while  nearer 
were  seen  a  few  dark,  spirit-like  forms  moving  about.  Exactly 
facing  our  balcony,  a  narrow  valley  ran  out,  and  pierced  far 
into  the  mountains.  Its  entrance  was  guarded  by  two  high, 
projecting,  precipitous  rocks,  resembling  gigantic  portals,  and 
from  the  top  of  these  an  unceasing  volley  of  rockets  from  each 
side  arched  over  the  chasm  beneath,  and,  mingling  at  an  im- 
mense height,  spangled  the  sky  with  sparks. 

In  the  mean  time,  Mr.  Irving  had  his  adventures,  which  I 
will  try  to  relate  as  much  as  I  can  in  his  own  words. 

He  set  out,  pleased,  no  doubt,  to  give  his  hard-worked 
imagination  a  cooling  holiday  among  the  midnight  woods,  that 
with  their  tete-a-tete,  and  silent  repose,  invested  a  retrospect — 
of  town,  and  lights,  and  balls,  of  home  recollections,  and  all 
the  sea  of  life  and  action,  even  the  nearest  events,  with  a  dis- 


382  APPENDIX. 

tance  that  gives  to  all  a  soft  charm ;  or  perhaps  he  only  looked 
on  the  black  and  fantastic  tree  trunks  in  a  sort  of  mental  doze. 
Whatever  were  his  thoughts,  they  were  suddenly  brought  home 
with  a  start.  He  was  not  so  far  from  human  company  as  he 
fancied,  for  he  caught  sight  of  the  shadowy  figures  of  two  men 
closely  following  him — now  stealthily  slinking  across  the  moon- 
light, now  lost  again  in  the  darkness  of  the  trees  ;  but  at  length, 
by  quick  walking,  he  left  behind,  as  he  thought,  these  unwel- 
come, would-be  companions ;  and  again  his  mind  wandered 
over  the  tracks  of  the  past,  or  watched  the  moon,  so  high  and 
far  in  the  skies  of  deep-stained  blue,  that  glided  in  and  out  the 
netted  traceries  of  the  boughs  overhead,  throwing  softly  shad- 
ows of  the  silent  trees  upon  the  ground But  what  was 

that  ?  A  shadow  of  a  different  nature  crossed  his  path ;  and, 
as  he  looked  up,  he  again,  and  now  distinctly,  saw  those  un- 
pleasant, inquisitive  persons,  who  were  still  closely  following 
him,  evidently  with  no  good  design,  and  who  were  now  so  near 
upon  him  that  he  heard  the  crush  of  the  leaves  under  their  feet. 
What  would  have  been  the  end  of  this  adventure  there  is  no 
knowing,  had  he  not  at  that  moment  espied  an  opening  among 
the  trees,  and  the  welcome  sight  of  the  lights  of  the  town,  for 
which  he  made  in  all  haste.  Although  he  seemed  rather 
pleased  than  otherwise  when  relating  to  us  this  adventure,  still 
such  things  must  be  more  pleasant  in  the  telling  than  in  the 
reality.  He  did  not  arrive  home  till  the  ball  was  nearly  over, 
about  three  in  the  morning. 

We  set  off  the  next  day  at  nine  o'clock,  and  did  not  get 
out  of  the  carriage  till  we  arrived  at  the  Ross  Trapp  (horse 
trap).  The  whole  of  the  road  seemed  a  Ross  Trapp  to  me. 
Fine  piles  of  rocks  were  mingled  with  noble  oaks,  and  a  con- 
siderable river  foamed  beneath.  Stags  stare  at  you,  shy  and 
wild ;  hawks  sail  along  on  their  broad  wings  from  crag  to 
crag ;  and  we  saw  one  eagle  that  Mr.  Irving  discovered,  and 
pointed  out  to  us. 

Blankenburg  is  an  old,  gray,  unpaved  town.  In  the  morn- 
ing we  all  went  up  to  the  celebrated  castle,  the  most  ancient 


APPENDIX  383 

dwelling  mansion  I  have  seen.  It  was  built  in  1100,  and  is 
full  of  the  traces  of  everyday  life  in  old  times.  There  is  a 
richly-carved  spinning  wheel,  and  numerous  portraits  of  one  of 
the  pretty  spinsters — fair,  prim,  and  quaint.  There  were  also 
some  English  beauties,  and  those  three  lovely  Countesses 
Konigsmark,  whose  vestiges  were  scattered  all  over  the  castle. 
King  August  der  Starcke  admired  one  of  them.  I  suppose  he 
liked  an  Amazonian  expression ;  for  she  is  generally  in  the 
position  of  Raphael  in  his  own  portraits  of  himself,  looking 
over  her  shoulder,  with  a  pair  of  bright  espiegle  eyes ;  a  quiver 
on  her  back,  a  long,  slight  waist,  and  satin  skirt  in  rich,  full 
folds.  Still  more  curious,  though  less  charming,  was  the  famed 
white  lady,  the  heroine  of  the  tragedy  of  the  Ahnfrau  (the 
ancestress),  who  haunts  so  many  castles.  She  is  all  in  white, 
with  a  long  white  veil,  which  will  not  be  changed  till  the  Day 
of  Judgment ;  only  when  she  announces  a  misfortune,  which 
appears  to  be  chiefly  her  lot,  she  wears  black  gloves,  and  her 
little  white  spaniel  is  then  a  black  one.  We  also  saw  the  beau- 
tiful ivory  crucifix  by  Michael  Angelo.  "We  afterward  went 
down  Baumann's  Hohle — a  grand  cavern ;  but  ,we  would  not 
wear  the  horrid  miners'  dresses,  they  were  too  frightful. 

We  arrived  at  Stolberg  by  infamous  roads,  the  moonlight 
trembling  through  the  superb  forests  of  beech,  pine,  and  spruce 
fir.  The  next  day  rain  and  cloud,  and  distant  gleams  of  sun. 
Flora  and  Mr.  Irving  capped  verses  as  they  sat  on  the  box. 
These  are  not  so  bad  : 

"  Dark  lies  the  vale  and  ruined  tower, 

But  bright  the  distant  scene  ; 

So  Hope  still  gilds  the  future  hour, 

Though  Sorrow  lies  between." 

Late  at  night  we  stopped  at  Bleicherd.  There  was  a  mar- 
riage, and  every  little  inn  was  taken  up,  much  to  Irving's  vex- 
ation on  our  account.  We  had  the  pleasure  of  standing  in  the 
rain,  and  seeing  them  dance,  through  the  lighted  windows.  At 
last,  as  we  were  famishing,  we  sat  down  on  the  doorstep  of  a 


384  APPENDIX. 

pothouse,  and  had  some  bread  and  beer  soup,  which  Irving  in- 
duced some  peasant  girl  to  bring,  all  breathless  from  the  dance. 
We  had  endured  such  fear  and  shaking  from  the  bad  roads, 
that  Irving  persuaded  us  to  put  ourselves  in  the  Post  Wagen 
— a  wagon  indeed.  We  all  got  under  the  awning,  and  laid 
down  in  the  straw ;  jumbling  over  ditches,  rocks,  and  seas  of 
mud  ;  Mr.  Troppeneger  following  alone  in  the  carriage,  till  we 
reached  Heiligenstadt,  where,  after  baths  and  a  good  breakfast, 
we  got  reinstated  in  our  due  honors. 

The  country  is  lovely ;  woody  valleys  widening  here  and 
there  into  sloping  meadows  and  striped  cornfields,  or  enclosing 
pretty  farmhouses,  painted  and  barred  like  Swiss  cottages ;  or 
little  churches,  nestling  among  the  most  emerald-green  foliage. 
The  sky  is  the  purest  azure.  Irving  prepared  us  a  charming 
surprise,  by  having  our  dinner  laid  out  of  doors,  on  the  crown 
of  a  hill,  under  a  lime  tree,  round  which  green  bowers  are  built 
up  for  the  cherry  gathering,  of  which  we  all  partook.  Irving 
said  we  enjoyed  our  cherries  more  than  any  bon  vivant  could 
enjoy  his  turtle  soup.  It  was  a  good-natured  evening  ;  heaven 
and  earth  seemed  to  smile  a  reconciliation  after  the  storm.  We 
arrived  at  Cassel  by  a  brilliant  full  moon.  The  next  day  we 
went  to  a  fine  gallery  of  paintings,  which  Denon  called  a  set 
of  jewels  ;  so  he  took  them  to  Paris. 

We  saw  Wilhelmshohe,  where,  among  many  paintings,  one 
charmed  us,  and  Irving  quite  fell  in  love  with  it.  It  was  a 
little  princess,  half  woman  and  half  child.  She  was  kneeling, 
with  one  arm  reposing  on  a  huge  nosegay.  Her  dress  was 
white  satin,  with  a  broad  band  of  turquoise  blue  down  the  front, 
and  a  full  cap  of  blue-and-white,  which  had  the  effect  of  a  gar- 
land ;  but  it  was  the  easy,  playful  grace ;  the  sweet,  regular, 
oval  face  ;  the  animated  air  of  childish  naivete,  and  the  faintest 
touch  of  highbred  pride,  that  enchanted  us  all.  She  was  feed- 
ing a  lamb — she  looked  like  a  dear  little  lamb  herself.  The 
gardens  and  fountains  are  beautiful.  In  the  evening  we  went 
to  the  opera.  I  suppose  Irving  will  leave  us  to-morrow.  He 
read  us  his  MSS. 


APPENDIX.  385 

Good  Irving  gives  up  his  route,  and  goes  with  us  to  Rot- 
terdam. 

"We  proceeded  through  the  Sauerland  and  Arolsee.  Ever 
since  we  entered  Hesse,  the  country  seems  to  grow  richer  and 
more  populous ;  and  all  the  simple  luxuries  of  a  well-cultivated 
land  (ham,  butter,  and  bread)  improve.  We  travelled  through 
the  nio-ht,  halting  at  a  deserted  convent,  hid  in  a  romantic  nook, 
where  we  comforted  ourselves  with  hot  wine  soup,  and  silk 
handkerchiefs,  the  night  being  stormy.  At  the  next  town, 
after  our  toilette,  at  a  neat  inn,  we  walked  on,  and  Mr.  Irving 
remarked,  "  How  much  this  country  puts  one  in  mind  of  Eng- 
land ! — field  gates,  hedges,  cottage  gardens,  roses,  and  broad 
beans."  About  Eberfeld  one  sees  a  manufacturing  appearance, 
and  the  rich  soil  is  quite  petted  into  profusion. 

"We  had  rain  at  Dusseldorf. 

Rees,  where  the  people  speak  Dutch,  is  the  first  place  in 
our  journeyings  where  we  do  not  understand  the  language. 

The  evening  cleared  for  our  arrival  at  Nimmegen.  The 
carpeted  stairs,  tea  urn,  and  sugar  tongs,  looked  quite  English  ; 
not  so  the  enormous  whole  cheese,  overgrown  sausages,  &c, 
which  appeared  at  tea.  The  noble  Rhine  divides  us  from  the 
pretty  little  town,  where  Mr.  Irving  and  we  took  a  delightful 
evening  stroll  round  the  ramparts.  Its  walls  show  signs  of 
many  a  siege  of  ancient  and  modern  date.  It  combines  a  veti 
eran,  warlike  air  with  the  peculiar  national  Dutch  bien-etre, 
The  streets  are  paved  with  a  mosaic  pattern  of  small  bricks ; 
the  houses,  built  of  the  same,  present  notched  and  carved  gable 
ends,  with  immensely  tall  windows.  Swarms  of  Sunday  beau- 
ties were  sitting  on  their  chequered  steps,  with  a  complete  har- 
ness of  gold  ornaments  about  the  head.  We  hurried  from  the 
view  of  the  majestic  Rhine,  glowing  under  an  evening  sun, 
summoned  by  the  bell  of  the  flying  bridge. 

I  like  to  pass  at  once  into  such  a  characteristic  place  as  this. 

The  roads  are  not  so  alarming  as  they  were  the  day  before. 

We  were  perched  on  high  dikes,  the  greatest  elevation  within 

sight ;  so  narrow,  that  on  one  side  the  carriage  wheels  wer§ 

Vol.  IV.— 17  (23) 


386  APPENDIX. 

often  over  the  edge ;  so  that,  in  spite  of  heat  and  fatigue,  we 
walked  great  part  of  the  way.  The  enormous  joints  of  meat 
seem  to  proclaim  more  of  good  living  than  good  taste.  Irving 
says  they  do  well  to  make  the  best  of  in-doors,  as  out-of-doors 
is  so  deficient.  He  is  delighted  and  diverted  with  the  number 
of  "  Lust  hausen  " — summer  houses — hung  over  the  canals, 
like  little  round  cages,  each  holding  its  stout  mynheer,  who  sits 
there  with  his  pipe  in  dreamy  content. 

The  solemn,  republican-looking  storks  march  pompously 
over  the  swampy  fields,  or,  seated  in  enormous  nests  on  the 
tops  of  barns  and  stacks,  look  like  the  lords  of  the  land,  and 
are  certainly  the  most  gentlemanlike  animals  on  two  legs  we 
have  seen  in  this  dull  country.  We  reached  Rotterdam  about 
midnight,  its  broad,  straight  canals  shining  in  the  starlight. 
They  are  edged  with  trees,  and  filled  with  heavy  Dutch  lug- 
gers ;  their  wings  on  each  side  give  them  the  appearance  of 
great  heady  nightmoths,  sleeping  on  the  canals.  In  the  morn- 
ing, this  amphibious  town — this  awkward  parody  on  Venice — 
did  not  please  us  so  well,  with  its  heat,  its  glare,  its  stagnant 
water  and  vile  smell  of  pitch  and  tar,  putting  us  in  mind  of 
our  woes  to-morrow ;  nor  did  the  humdrum  buzz  of  business 
cheer  us.  Irving  truly  says,  in  this  place  it  is  not  the  people 
that  have  grown  to  the  soil,  but  the  soil  that  has  grown  to  the 
people ;  each  has  to  build  himself  up  a  hive  like  the  bees.  Mr. 
Irving  is  sadly  out  of  spirits.  We  are  going  to  home  and 
friends  ;  but  he,  to  wander  about  the  wide  world  alone. 

Wednesday.— After  bathing,  we  were  hurried  pele-meh 
into  the  steamboat,  Mr.  Irving  accompanied  us  down  the 
river,  quite  into  the  sea,  when  he  was  put  down  into  the  little 
open  boat  to  return  to  the  shore.  I  shall  never,  however  long 
I  may  live,  forget  his  last  farewell,  as  he  looked  up  to  us,  so 
pale  and  melancholy.  It  was  a  very  painful  moment  to  us  all. 
We  have  not  often  felt  so  grieved  at  parting  with  a  dear  friend. 


He  afterward  came  to  see  us  at  our  house  in  Bedfordshire  ; 


APPENDIX  387 

but,  owing  to  various  circumstances,  it  was  not  so  cheerful  a 
visit  as  we  could  have  wished. 

Then  again  I  met  him  in  London,  some  years  later.  Every 
spare  evening  he  had  he  spent  at  our  house.  He  was  still  the 
same  ;  time  changed  him  very  little.  His  conversation  was  as 
interesting  as  ever ;  his  dark-gray  eyes  still  full  of  varying  feel- 
ing ;  his  smile  half  playful,  half  melancholy,  but  ever  kind. 
All  that  was  mean,  or  envious,  or  harsh,  he  seemed  to  turn 
from  so  completely,  that,  when  with  him,  it  seemed  that  such 
things  were  not.  All  gentle  and  tender  affections,  Nature  in 
her  sweetest  or  grandest  moods,  pervaded  his  whole  imagina- 
tion, and  left  no  place  for  low  or  evil  thoughts ;  and,  when  in 
good  spirits,  his  humor,  his  droll  descriptions,  and  his  fun,  would 
make  the  gravest  or  the  saddest  laugh. 


LETTERS   OP   WASHINGTON  IRVING. 

[To  Miss  Emily  Foster.] 

Mr. arrived  here  two  or  three  days  since,  with  his 

two  sons.     How  often  I  have  recollected  your  anecdotes  of  the 

embarrassments  and  cross  purposes  of  the  family  last 

summer !  They  have  had  nothing  but  a  tissue  of  anlegenheit 
since  they  have  been  here.  At  one  time  they  lost  their  port- 
manteau ;  then  they  lost  part  of  their  clothes  at  the  laundress's, 
which  they  have  not  as  yet  recovered ;  and  so  they  go  on  from 
one  petty  scrape  to  another,  and  always  manage  to  be  too  late 
for  everything. 

I  scribble  this  in  a  great  hurry,  for  I  am  busy  making 
arrangements  for  breaking  up  our  encampment.  You  will  com- 
plain of  this  letter,  no  doubt.  Take  it,  however,  for  what  it  is, 
as  good  as  I  can  at  this  moment  write  ;  and  however  brief  I 
write,  and  however  little  it  may  appear  to  come  "  from  the 
heart,''  as  you  hint  in  one  of  your  letters,  believe  me,  my  senti- 
ments toward  you  all  do  not  shift  with  my  style,  nor  depend 
upon  the  tone  and  turn  of  a  period. 


388  APPENDIX. 

If  you  knew  what  I  felt  at  the  idea  of  once  more  seeing 
you  all,  you  would  not  require  any  rhetoric  in  the  matter. 

At  Toplitz  I  expect  to  hear  when  you  go  to  Schandrau,  or 
whether  the  unsettled  state  of  the  weather  does  not  deter  you 
from  making  the  excursion.     And  now,  God  bless  you  all ! 

Yours  truly, 

"Washington  Irving. 

[Washington  Irving  to  Mrs.  Foster .] 

I  thank  you,  my  dear  Mrs.  Foster,  for  your  kind  attention 
in  sending  me  the  plan  for  my  route,  as  likewise  for  your  kind 
note  accompanying  it.  You  talk  of  my  coming  back — I  am 
ashamed  to  say  it,  I  am  almost  wishing  myself  back  already. 
I  ought  to  be  off  like  your  birds,  but  I  feel  I  shall  not  be  able 
to  keep  clear  of  the  cage.  God  bless  you  all !  I  wish  I  liked 
you  all  only  half  as  much  as  I  do. 

Yours  ever, 

Washington  Irving. 

Mr.  Irving  says  he  is  suffering  much  from  violent  pain  in 
the  head : 

[Washington  Irving  to  Mrs.  Foster^\ 

Perhaps  a  good  deal  of  mountain  scrambling  to-morrow 
may  drive  it  off,  or  may  overpower  the  feeling  of  pain,  by  men- 
tal excitement.  I  love  mountains  ;  the  soul  seems  lifted  up  by 
them,  as  well  as  the  body,  and  one  breathes  a  purer  and  freer 
atmosphere.  The  evening  is  now  coming  on.  You  are  all 
seated,  I  suppose,  in  the  little  Pavilion.  I  shall  lie  down  on 
the  sofa,  and  drive  away  this  pain  by  picturing  you  all  at  your 
occupations,  and  recalling  the  many  evenings  of  homefelt  enjoy- 
ment I  have  passed  among  you.  They  were  the  sweetest  mo- 
ments that  I  have  passed  in  Dresden,  though  I  fear  I  often  tres- 
passed on  the  patience  of  others.  We  fancy  others  feel  the 
sunshine  that  is  only  in  our  own  bosoms,  and,  while  full  of 


APPENDIX.  389 

good  humor  and  good  will,  the  idea  never  enters  one's  mind 
that  even  one's  good  humor  may  be  irksome. 

I  shah  never  forget  poor  Miss  W.,  who,  wrapped  up  in  ec- 
stasy with  her  own  music,  did  not  perceive  that  all  the  company 
were  either  yawning,  or  laughing  at  her. 

Still  those  were  sweet  moments,  for  they  made  me  know 
and  prize  you  all.  I  would  not  give  up  one  such  evening  for 
all  the  fashionable  parties  we  were  at  together.  Perhaps  there 
is  some  selfishness  in  this.  I  felt  of  some  consequence  in  those 
little  domestic  scenes ;  but  when  we  entered  the  great  maze  of 
fashion,  I  was  like  the  poor  duck*  in  the  Grossen  Garten,  f  and 
was  fain  to  draw  off  to  a  corner.  But  I  always  liked  such  do- 
mestic scenes  and  full-flowing  conversations  the  best.  "When 
I  consider  how  I  have  trifled  with  my  time,  suffered  painful 
vicissitudes  of  feeling,  which  for  a  time  damaged  both  mind 
and  body — when  I  consider  all  this,  I  reproach  myself  that  I 
did  not  listen  to  the  first  impulse  of  ray  mind,  and  abandon 
Dresden  long  since.  And  yet  I  think  of  returning !  Why 
should  I  come  back  to  Dresden  ?  The  very  inclination  that 
draws  me  thither  should  furnish  reasons  for  my  staying  away. 

*  "  In  a  neglected  part  of  the  Grossen  Garten  was  a  lonely  little  lake, 
near  a  deserted  palace.  The  only  vestige  left  of  the  gayety  once  there, 
was  a  melancholy  swan,  pining  alone,  until  a  wild  duck  took  pity  on  its 
forlorn  estate,  and  kept  it  company.  There,  cheered  by  his  gay  little 
friend,  they  used  to  sport  and  play,  until,  in  an  evil  hour,  three  more  swans 
were  brought  to  the  place.  When  the  little  wild  duck  came,  as  usual,  to 
seek  his  old  companion,  ungrateful  as  he  was,  he  turned  against  him,  and, 
puffing  out  with  pride,  joined  his  new  acquaintances  to  drive  off  his  former 
friend,  who  still  hung  about  in  corners,  and  tried  to  follow,  with  love 
stronger  than  life.  But  if  he  dared  approach,  they  all  united  to  attack 
him,  till  at  last,  with  blows  from  their  beaks,  they  killed  him,  faithful  to 
the  last."    This  is  the  duck  Mr.  Irving  refers  to. 

f  Mr.  Irving  was  in  this,  as  in  some  other  modest  fancies,  quite  mis- 
taken ;  he  was  a  great  deal  too  much  sought  after  to  be  suffered  to  remain 
in  a  corner.  Besides  that,  when  he  was  in  spirits,  and  when  a  few  of  the 
friends  he  valued  were  with  him,  he  was  lively  and  brilliant  even  in  gen- 
eral society ;  although,  no  doubt,  a  little  jar  against  his  feelings  threw  him 
back  into  reserve. 


390  APPENDIX. 

"Well,  well,  I  must  leave  off  scribbling,  for  I  am  writing  at  ran> 
dom.     Good-night. 

[  Washington  Irving  to  Mrs.  Foster.] 

May  28, 1823. 
I  ought  to  say  something  of  Herrnhuth,  which  is  one  of 
the  great  objects  of  curiosity  in  this  part  of  the  world.  We 
passed  three  or  four  hours  there,  and  went  through  the  institu- 
tions, churchyard,  &c.  It  is  all  very  excellent  in  its  way,  but 
I  would  rather  live  in  a  wilderness  than  there.  I  have  no 
relish  for  this  triste  simplicity,  that  consists  in  negatives.  It 
seems  the  study  of  these  worthy  people  to  divest  life  and 
nature  of  everything  that  Heaven  intended  should  embellish 
this  short  existence.  I  am  not,  it  is  true,  the  one  to  judge 
impartially  in  this  instance,  having  been  accustomed  to  dress 
everything  too  much  with  the  illusions  of  the  fancy ;  but  surely 
we  were  not  gifted  with  the  delightful  powers  of  the  imagina- 
tion thus  to  combat  with  them  and  quench  them.  Nature  is 
simple  herself,  but  then  she  is  varied  and  beautiful  in  her  sim- 
plicity. If  the  Herrnhuthers  were  right  in  their  notions,  the 
world  would  have  been  laid  out  in  squares  and  angles  and  right 
lines,  and  everything  would  have  been  white,  and  black,  and 
snuff-color,  as  they  have  been  clipped  by  these  merciless  re- 
trenchers  of  beauty  and  enjoyment.  And  then  their  dormito- 
ries— think  of  between  one  and  two  hundred  of  these  simple 
gentlemen  cooped  up  at  night  in  one  great  chamber  !  "What  a 
concert  of  barrel-organs  in  this  great  resounding  saloon  !  And 
then  their  plan  of  marriage  !  The  very  birds  of  the  air  choose 
their  mates  from  preference  and  inclination — but  this  detestable 
system  of  lot !  The  sentiment  of  love  may  be,  and  is,  in  a 
great  measure,  a  fostered  growth  of  poetry  and  romance,  and 
balderdashed  with  false  sentiment ;  but,  with  all  its  vitiations, 
it  is  the  beauty  and  the  charm,  the  flavor  and  the  fragrance  of 
all  intercourse  between  man  and  woman ;  it  is  the  rosy  cloud 
in  the  morning  of  life ;  and  if  it  does  too  often  resolve  itself 
into  the  shower,  yet,  to  my  mind,  it  only  makes  our  nature 


APPENDIX.  391 

more  fruitful  in  what  is  excellent  and  amiable.  But  I  forget — 
you  sent  me  to  bless,  and  not  to  curse  the  Herrnhuthers,  and  I 
will  not  curse  them.  May  they  be  blessed  here  and  hereafter  ! 
but,  in  the  mean  time,  preserve  me  from  their  heaven  upon 
earth.  I  know  nothing  more  dismal,  more  quenching  to  heart 
and  mind,  than  this  sterile,  monotonous  simplicity.  The  quaint 
German  song  says : 

"  Ich  habe  viel  gelitten 
In  dieser  schoner  Welt ; " 

but  give  me  the  world,  the  "  naughty  world,"  with  ail  its  cares 
and  crosses,  but  with  all  its  natural  charms,  its  innocent  pleas- 
ures, and  the  fantastic  embellishments  that  poetry  has  thrown 
about  it,  in  preference  to  the  regular,  right-angled,  whitewashed 

world  of  a  Herrnhuther 

And  so,  good-night  I 

Hoeschberg,  May  23. 

"We  arrived  here  late  last  evening,  after  a  very  rugged  jour- 
ney across  the  country  by  roads  only  fit  for  country  wagons. 
We  passed  through  most  beautiful  scenery,  and  the  Riesen- 
gebirge  were  in  sight,  though  mantled  in  clouds.  In  the  after- 
noon, the  wind  and  the  weather  changed,  and  we  had  an  occa- 
sional shower.  Still,  the  mountains  looked  grand  in  their  dark 
covering  of  mist,  and,  as  the  clouds  detached  themselves  and 
rolled  off  in  great  piles  into  the  blue  sky,  they  were  finely  lit 
up  by  the  sunshine. 

On  entering  Horschberg,  we  found  the  public  square  and 
some  of  the  streets  partially  illuminated,  and  mine  host  of  the 
"  White  Horse,"  where  we  put  up,  ushered  us  into  rooms  bril- 
liantly lit  up  by  half  a  dozen  tallow  candles  in  each  window. 
He  informed  us  that  it  was  the  Pfingster  /est,  when  the  towns- 
men shot  at  the  target,  and  that  the  procession  would  soon 
come  by,  escorting  home  the  King  of  the  Year.  The  grand 
pageant  passed  shortly  after,  with  full  band  playing  the  jager 
chorus  from  the  "  Freischutz,"  and  all  the  burgerschaft  in  mili- 


392  APPENDIX. 

tary  array,  with  the  king  of  sharpshooters  in  the  midst  of 
them :  the  tag,  rag,  and  bobtail  of  the  place  shout  in  the  rear. 
Mine  host  of  the  "  White  Horse,"  a  jolly  round  fellow,  had 
stuffed  himself  in  an  old  hussar  jacket  on  this  occasion,  inform- 
ing us  that,  in  his  younger  days,  he  had  belonged  to  one  of  the 
volunteer  corps.  He  kindled  up  like  a  veteran  warrior  at  the 
military  parade  of  his  townsmen,  and  pointed  out  the  uniform, 
of  each  company  that  passed  by,  telling  us  the  name,  character, 
achievements,  and  craft  of  every  leader. 

This  is  an  overcast,  rainy  morning,  and  we  are  confined  to 
the  house.  My  companion  is  making  an  excellent  sketch,  from 
the  window,  of  the  public  square  which  lies  before  our  hotel. 
After  an  early  dinner  we  start  for  Schmiedeberg.  I  ought  to 
have  mentioned,  that  Horschberg  is  the  scene  of  my  friend 
Rubezahl's  gambols,  which  gave  it  an  interest  to  me. 

Schmiedeberg,  afternoon. — We  arrived  here  about  four 
o'clock,  after  passing  through  some  beautiful  valley  scenery. 
We  are  now  at  the  foot  of  the  Riesengebirge,  and  the  weather 
promises  to  be  fair  to-morrow,  so  that  we  shall  be  able  to  ex- 
plore some  of  the  scenery.  The  mountains  do  not  equal  my 
expectations  ;  but  that  is  the  case  with  everything  in  this  world 
of  which  we  hear  a  good  deal  beforehand.  The  valley  in 
which  Schmiedeberg  is  situated  is  soft  and  verdant,  and,  when 
it  is  seen  with  the  advantage  of  sunshine,  must  be  lovely. 

My  fellow  traveller  is  already  in  the  field,  landscape  hunt- 
ing ;  but  I  am  obliged  to  keep  to  the  house.  I  have  unluckily 
taken  cold  on  the  sudden  change  of  weather  yesterday,  and  am 
threatened  with  a  pain  in  one  side  of  my  head.  I  hope  I  may 
escape  any  serious  attack. 

Prague,  Wednesday,  May  28, 1823. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Foster  : 

We  arrived  here  late  last  evening,  and  I  received  your  let- 
ter early  this  morning.  The  one  which  you  sent  to  Herrnhuth, 
I  never  received,  as  I  never  thought  of  inquiring  for  a  letter 
there.     Should  it  be  returned  to  you,  remember  I  claim  it  as 


APPENDIX.  393 

my  property.  I  sent  you  a  long,  rambling  letter  from  Schmie- 
deberg,  written  at  various  times  and  places,  and  finished  in  a 
very  feverish  mood,  and,  I  apprehend,  in  a  very  feverish  style, 
for  I  am  suffering  from  a  violent  pain  in  my  face  and  throat. 
My  indisposition  continued  for  two  or  three  days,  accompanied 
by  great  pain  and  fever.  I  was  really  afraid,  at  one  time,  that 
I  should  be  laid  up  among  the  mountains ;  but,  luckily,  I  kept 
clear  of  the  doctors,  and,  through  the  good  nursing  of  a  kind- 
hearted  chambermaid,  I  was  once  more  enabled  to  put  my  head 
out  of  doors.  Should  Livius  have  another  attack  of  his  com- 
plaint, I  advise  him  to  send  forthwith  to  Schmiedeberg  for  my 
Stube-mddchen,  who  is  worth  all  his  doctors  and  apothecaries 
put  together.  As  soon  as  I  could  bear  travelling,  we  set  off, 
and  crossed  a  part  of  the  Riesengebirge,  to  Lanschut,  and  so 
on  to  Koniggratz  and  to  this  place,  where  I  am  scrawling  this 
letter,  under  a  tree  in  a  garden  of  some  Bohemian  prince,  while 
my  companion  is  at  his  usual  work  of  sketching. 

Your  letter  of  Sunday  only  makes  me  regret  that  I  did  not 
get  your  other,  which  you  say  contained  your  journal  up  to 
Friday  ;  but  how  in  Heaven's  name  could  you  suppose  it  would 
find  me  at  Herrnhuth  ?  Did  you  suppose  I  could  linger  among 
those  meagre-souled  people  ?  I  am  quite  annoyed  at  the  idea 
that  the  letter  should  lie  in  the  office  of  that  joyless  commu- 
nity. 

I  write  my  letters  at  haphazard  moments,  which  will  ac- 
count for  those  written  sometimes  with  pen,  sometimes  with 
pencil,  as  either  is  at  hand.  "We  had  a  tedious,  irksome  jour- 
ney after  entering  Bohemia.  I  Was  not  perfectly  recovered, 
and  such  roads,  and  such  delays,  and  such  impassive  phlegm, 
and  absolute  stupidity  !  Yesterday  we  were  in  constant  exer- 
tion to  get  on,  from  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  till  eleven  at 
night,  and  only  accomplished  what  in  England  would  have  been 
half  a  day's  journey.  Really  it  requires  all  the  menschlichc 
tugend  and  Empfindsamheit  of  a  German  to  bear  with  these 
people.  Bohemia  is  a  tedious,  monotonous  country  ;  yet  I  am 
glad  to  have  seen  it  at  this  favorable  season — to  it  the  most 

Vol.  IV.— 17* 


394  APPENDIX. 

favorable.  Last  November,  when  I  passed  through,  it  was  all 
brown  ;  the  fields  newly  ploughed  and  sown,  partly  wrapped  in 
fog,  destitute  of  foliage  or  herbage,  and  altogether  dreary.  At 
present  it  is  covered  with  verdure,  the  wide  fields  waving  with 
grain,  like  the  green  billows  of  a  lake ;  the  houses  surrounded 
by  orchards  in  full  leaf  and  blossom  ;  and,  though  the  country 
is  still  monotonous  from  its  want  of  hills,  yet  it  has  a  look  of 
fertility  and  abundance  that  is  always  gratifying.  When  the 
summer  is  advanced,  and  the  crops  are  gathered,  it  will  again 
be  arid  and  dismal. 

I  have  not  been  able  to  enjoy  the  Riesengebirge  so  much  as 
I  expected.  My  unlucky  indisposition  deterred  me  from  ven- 
turing to  these  snowy  summits,  or  lingering  long  among  these 
uncertain  valleys.  Even  now  I  feel  myself  languid  and  almost 
good  for  nothing,  after  so  severe  an  attack  of  pain  and  fever, 
and  such  a  rough  course  of  travelling  as  succeeded  it. 

Mr.  Cockburn  is  delighted  with  Prague,  and  is  determined 
to  fill  his  sketch  book  from  it.  He  certainly  possesses  a  most 
happy  talent  for  taking  sketches,  either  of  landscape,  street,  or 
groups,  quite  masterly,  I  think.  Indeed,  he  is  a  young  man  of 
peculiar  and  strong  traits  of  character  and  indications  of  talent, 
though  encrusted,  if  I  may  use  the  word,  with  almost  uncon- 
querable diffidence,  as  it  respects  society.  I  have  been  more 
and  more  pleased  with  him  the  more  I  have  seen  and  known 
of  him ;  though  I  fancy  he  is  a  man  you  would  know  much 
longer  before  he  would  give  you  an  opportunity  of  knowing 
what  he  is  worth,  he  is  so  diffident  among  ladies.  I  always 
like  to  meet  with  these  naturally  gifted  men,  of  natural  good 
sense  and  natural  good  feeling ;  and  I  prize  them  the  more 
from  being  very  much  amused  by  the  polished,  and  passable, 
and  universally  current  men  of  society. 

I  must  finish  this  letter,  and  send  it  to  the  post ;  and  yet, 
what  a  letter !  Still  it  may  procure  me  a  reply,  and  for  that 
purpose  I  let  it  go.  I  am,  in  truth,  quite  spiritless  and  listless. 
My  mind  has  been  in  a  restless  state  of  strife  and  indecision, 
and  has  sunk  into  almost  apathy,  from  its  exhaustion.     I  hope 


APPENDIX.  395 

to  hear  from  you  again.  I  do  not  know  when  I  shall  leave 
this.  I  have  fifty  plans  of  what  I  ought  to  do,  and  only  one 
of  what  I  should  really  like  to  do.  My  ideas  have  been  flying 
to  all  points  of  the  compass ;  and  what  I  shall  do  in  the  end, 
whether  go  north,  south,  east,  or  west,  stay  where  I  am,  or 
tamely  go  back  to  Dresden,  is  what  perplexes  me.  It  is  very 
ridiculous  to  talk  in  this  way,  and  I  feel  that  it  is  so ;  yet  how 
can  I  write  frankly,  and  not  speak  from  what  is  uppermost  in 
my  mind?  If  I  come  back  to  Dresden,  I  ought  to  be  ready  to 
start  at  once  with  Lutzerode ;  and  if  I  start  with  him,  I  only 
come  back  to  take  a  farewell  that  would  be  a  more  uncomfort- 
able one  than  I  will  choose  to  acknowledge.  I  am  now  away, 
and  have,  in  a  manner,  cheated  myself  into  a  parting ;  for, 
when  I  bade  you  all  adieu,  I  thought  I  should  certainly  see  you 
all  again  in  twelve  days  or  a  fortnight.  Why,  then,  not  keep 
away,  now  I  am  here  ? 

I  like  Prague  ;  there  are  bold,  proud  features  about  it.  I 
like  these  old,  war-worn  warrior  towns ;  and  the  vast,  silent, 
deserted  palaces  of  the  Bohemian  nobility  that  one  meets  with, 
frowning  in  heavy  magnificence,  give  a  poetical  character  to 
the  place.  Thank  Heaven,  I  know  nobody  here,  and,  during 
the  short  stay  I  have  to  make,  I  am  not  obliged  to  go  to  even- 
ing parties,  or  to  pay  formal  visits.  I  feel  as  if  I  could  be  for 
a  long  time  without  any  desire  to  see  another  evening  gather- 
ing. I  want  to  be  either  quite  alone,  with  my  mind  in  full 
exercise,  or  quite  in  motion,  with  my  imagination  kept  in  ex- 
citement by  the  rapid  change  of  objects.  A  partial  pause  at 
this  moment  throws  me  into  a  state  of  inquietude,  and  suffers  a 
thousand  fruitless  and  uncomfortable  feelings  to  come  throng- 
ing upon  one.  I  must  conclude  this  scrawl,  for  I  see  the  time 
is  nearly  expired  within  which  I  can  throw  it  into  the  post.  I 
hope  to  hear  from  you  to-morrow  or  next  day,  and  will  write 
to  you  again.     It  is  a  good-for-nothing  scrawl,  but  it  must  go. 

Give  my  remembrances  to  the  young  ladies  and  to  the 
boys.     I  think  of  them  all  continually ;    and  if  they  really 


396  APPENDIX. 

think  and  care  for  me  half  as  much,  they  do  twice  as  much  a3 
I  hope  for.  Yours  ever,  most  truly, 

"Washington  Irving. 

Prague,  June  1,  1S23. 

I  thank  you  a  thousand  times,  my  dear  Mrs.  Foster,  for 
your  letter  of  "Wednesday.  I  cannot  tell  you  how  interesting 
it  was  to  me,  placing  the  dear  little  circle  of  the  Pavilion  so 
completely  before  my  eyes.  I  was  so  impatient  to  read  it,  that 
I  would  not  wait  till  I  got  to  my  lodgings,  which  are  distant 
from  the  post  office  ;  yet  I  would  not  read  it  in  the  bustle  and 
confusion  of  the  street.  I  tried  to  get  admitted  to  W  alien- 
stein's  garden.  It  was  closed ;  so  I  scrambled  up  the  grassy 
ramparts,  and  read  it  in  quiet,  with  old  Prague  and' the  Muldau 
at  my  feet.  I  have  since  read  it  over  half  a  dozen  times  ;  for, 
whenever  I  read  it,  it  seems  to  bring  me  among  you  all  again. 

I  am  scribbling  in  poor  Cockburn's  room,  who  is  quite  ill 
with  a  fever  and  sore  throat.  It  happens  to  be  a  bilious  attack 
brought  on  by  a  cold.  We  have  called  in  a  physician,  who 
appears  to  be  one  of  the  langsams.  He  has  prescribed  a  vari- 
ety of  doses  and  applications ;  but  I  trust  nature  will  fight  her 
own  battle  against  both  the  disease  and  the  doctor. 

All  Prague  is  in  an  uproar  with  a  religious  fete.  The  great 
street  below  my  window  is  swarming  with  crowds  of  priests, 
burgerschaft  in  regimentals,  the  different  trades,  crafts,  and 
mysteries,  with  banners  and  garlands  of  flowers,  and  peasant 
men  and  women,  in  every  variety  of  color  and  costume,  until 
the  whole  street  looks  like  a  great  moving  flower  bed.  Just 
opposite  the  hotel  is  a  temporary  altar  erected,  to  which  there  is 
a  grand  procession,  and  the  air  resounds  with  music  from  a 
variety  of  bands  attending  the  different  corps,  which,  mingling 
with  the  ringing  of  bells  and  the  chanting  of  priests  and 
school  children,  makes  the  oddest  confusion  of  sounds  you  can 
imagine. 

A  few  days  since  we  had  a  grand  ceremony  of  the  kind,  in 
which  all  the  artillery  assisted ;  and  there  was  a  procession  on 


APPENDIX.  397 

the  fine  bridge  which  bestrides  the  Wolga.  It  had  a  noble 
effect,  and  looked  like  a  conquering  army  entering  old  Prague. 

There  is  something  very  striking  and  interesting  to  me 
about  this  old  city.  It  has  more  of  a  continental  look  than 
Dresden.  The  latter,  in  fact,  seems  to  have  been  altered,  and 
repaired,  and  pulled  down,  and  built  up,  until  it  has  become 
quite  a  decent,  good-looking,  commonplace  town ;  like  a  dis- 
banded soldier,  tamed  down  into  a  sober,  respectable  citizen. 
But  old  Prague  still  keeps  up  its  warrior  look,  and  swaggers 
about  with  its  rusty  corslet  and  helm,  though  both  sadly  bat- 
tered. There  seems  to  me  to  be  an  air  of  style  and  fashion 
about  the  first  people  of  Prague,  and  a  good  deal  of  beauty  in 
the  fashionable  circle.  This,  perhaps,  is  owing  to  my  contem- 
plating it  from  a  distance,  and  my  imagination  lending  it  tints 
occasionally.  Both  actors  and  audience,  contemplated  from  the 
pit  of  a  theatre,  look  better  than  when  seen  in  the  boxes  and 
behind  the  scenes.  I  like  to  contemplate  society  in  this  way 
occasionally,  and  to  dress  it  up,  by  the  help  of  fancy,  to  my 
own  taste.  "When  I  get  in  the  midst  of  it,  it  is  too  apt  to  lose 
its  charm,  and  then  there  is  the  trouble  and  ennui  of  being 
obliged  to  take  an  active  part  in  the  farce  ;  but  to  be  a  mere 
spectator  is  amusing.  I  am  glad,  therefore,  that  I  brought  no 
letters  to  Prague.  I  shall  leave  it  with  a  favorable  idea  of  its 
society  and  manners,  from  knowing  nothing  accurate  of  either ; 
and  with  a  firm  belief  that  every  pretty  woman  I  have  seen  is 
an  angel ;  as  I  am  apt  to  think  every  pretty  woman,  until  I 
have  found  her  out. 

Monday,  Id. — I  have  passed  the  night  on  a  sofa  in  Cock- 
burn's  room.  He  has  had  a  very  restless  night,  with  a  high 
fever,  and  complains  of  his  throat  this  morning. 

The  physician  has  just  been  here,  and  pronounces  Cock- 
burn's  malady  to  be  the  scarlet  fever ;  and,  indeed,  it  appears 
to  be  so  from  the  color  of  his  skin.  Leeches  are  to  be  applied 
to  his  throat,  which  is  much  inflamed.  You  need  not  tell  his 
mother  the  nature  of  his  malady,  as  they  might  write  home, 
and  make  his  family  uneasy.     I  have  a  better  opinion  of  the 


398  APPENDIX. 

doctor  than  I  bad  at  first.  The  people  of  the  house  are  very 
attentive.  There  is  an  excellent  Stubemadchen,  who  nurses 
him  with  a  true  woman's  kindness ;  and  for  my  own  part,  I 
shall  do  my  best ;  so  I  hope,  among  us  all,  we  shall  set  him  up 
again  before  long.  This  has  been  an  unlucky  journey  for  us 
both,  and  both  have  paid  the  penalty  for  invading  Rubezahl's 
dominions. 

I  wish  you  would  have  the  kindness  to  send  to  Mr.  Morier's, 
and  inquire  whether  any  letters  have  arrived  for  me,  and,  if  so, 
send  them  here  by  return  of  post ;  also,  if  there  are  any  letters 
for  me  or  for  Mr.  Cockburn  at  the  post  office.  Should  little 
Montucci  ever  call  or  send  his  artist  about  my  likeness,  tell  him 
not  to  wait  for  my  return,  but  to  do  what  he  pleases,  so  that  he 
does  not  caricature  me.  I  am  very  indifferent  about  it,  and  am 
sorry  I  referred  him  to  you ;  but  at  the  time  I  thought  of  hav- 
ing impressions  struck  for  America — it  was  a  mere  transient 
thought,  and  not  worth  the  trouble. 

You  charge  me  with  tormenting  myself  almost  into  a  ner- 
vous fever,  because  I  cannot  write.  Do  you  really  think  me 
so  anxious  about  literary  reputation,  or  so  nervous  about  the 
fleeting  popularity  of  a  day  ?  I  have  not  been  able  to  write, 
it  is  true,  because  I  have  been  harassed  in  mind. 


I  was  delighted  to  see  the  two  boys  once  more  before  I  set 
out.  The  dear  little  fellows  !  In  some  respects  they  put  me 
so  much  in  mind  of  their  two  sisters.  You  can't  think  how 
much  I  was  gratified  by  the  goodwill  shown  by  the  little  rogues 
at  parting.  I  like  to  be  liked  by  children,  for  there  is  no  stuff 
nor  hollowness  in  their  manifestations  of  attachment. 


The  trees  are  dressed  out  in  their  young  leaves  and  gay 
blossoms,  the  birds  are  in  full  song ;  neither  have  yet  entered 
upon  the  cares  of  the  year.  The  former,  as  yet,  have  not  be- 
gun to  bear  fruit,  nor  the  latter  to  lay  eggs. 


APPENDIX.  399 

I  am  very  much  pleased  with  my  travelling  companion.  He 
is  full  of  feeling  for  his  profession,  and  for  his  favorite  amuse- 
ment of  drawing.  An  old  fortress,  a  field  of  battle,  or  a  fine 
landscape,  puts  him  into  an  ecstasy.  Such  is  just  the  compan- 
ion to  have  in  travelling  through  these  old  campaigning  coun- 
tries, and  among  beautiful  scenery.  He  had  made  a  military 
plan  of  the  battle  of  Bautzen,  and,  from  a  tower  of  the  toAvn, 
he  explained  the  whole  very  clearly,  as  I  thought,  even  to 
my  inexperienced  apprehension.  This  morning  our  road  lay 
through  the  scenes  of  the  severest  fighting ;  and  as  Cockburn 
was  fighting  the  battle  over  again  with  the  enthusiasm  of  a 
young  soldier,  and  placing  the  same  vividly  before  my  imagina- 
tion, I  could  not  but  contrast  it  with  the  scene  actually  before 
my  eyes.  The  quiet  beauty  and  serenity  of  the  landscape,  the 
fields  all  in  verdure,  enamelled  with  pansies,  the  hearts-ease  and 
forget-me-not  springing,  as  if  purposely  sown,  from  the  turf 
under  which  so  many  brave  fellows  lie  buried,  and  thousands 
of  larks  hovering  in  the  air,  and  filling  it  with  melody.  "What 
demi-devils  we  are  to  mar  such  scenes  of  quiet  and  loveliness 
with  our  passions ! 

Shakspeare,  I  think  it  is,  says,  if  mortals  had  the  power  of 
Jove,  we  should  have  continued  thunder — nothing  hut  thunder. 
As  it  is,  how  infinitely  more  mischief  and  misery  does  man 
inflict  with  his  pigmy  imitations,  than  the  Deity  with  all  his 
tremendous  power  of  lightning  and  thunderbolt !  "What  is  the 
amount  of  all  the  evil  inflicted  by  lightning,  tempest,  earth- 
quake, and  volcano,  to  the  overwhelming  and  widespreading 
miseries  of  war ! 

I  do  not  recollect  whether  you  mentioned  having  been  at 
the  ruined  convent  where  I  am  scribbling  this  ;  though,  as  you 
are  all  such  explorers  of  glens  and  visitors  of  ruins,  you  can 
hardly  have  missed  it.  The  whole  way  from  Zittau  hither  is 
full  of  fine  scenery.  We  came  through  it  after  five  o'clock. 
I  don't  know  when  I  have  been  more  delighted,  except,  per- 
haps, at  Tharand  ;  but  then  I  had  such  companions  to  help  me 
enjoy  it.     The  valley  which  leads  up  to  the  ruin  puts  me  in 


400  APPENDIX. 

mind  of  English  scenery,  as,  indeed,  many  of  the  places  in  this 
part  of  Saxony  do ;  the  cottages  are  so  surrounded  by  gardens 
and  grassplats,  so  buried  in  trees,  and  the  moss-covered  roofs 
almost  mingling  and  blending  with  the  surrounding  vegetation. 
The  whole  landscape  is  completely  rustic.  The  orchards  were 
all  in  bloom,  and,  as  the  day  was  very  warm,  the  good  people 
were  seated  in  the  shade  of  the  trees,  spinning,  near  the  rills 
of  water  that  trickled  along  the  greensward. 

But  I  must  stop  scribbling,  for  I  see  Cockburn  is  finishing 
his  sketching.  He  has  made  a  couple  of  very  pretty  sketches ; 
one  of  a  part  of  this  noble  old  ruin,  another,  a  peep  from  it, 
between  the  rocky  defiles  of  the  valley  to  the  open  plain  that 
stretches  beyond,  sprinkled  with  cottages,  with  Zittau  glittering 
in  the  centre. 

Zittau. — "We  have  had  a  lovely  walk  from  Oewien.  "We 
stopped  so  long  on  the  way,  for  Cockburn  to  sketch  a  cottage 
scene  and  a  group  of  peasant  girls,  that  the  moon  was  out  in 
all  her  splendor  before  we  reached  Zittau. 


I  think  your  idea  for  the  picture  by  Arnold  is  very  good. 
Let  Emily,  for  instance,  have  a  book,  and  be  looking  up  to 
Flora  and  pointing  out  a  passage,  while  Flora  is  leaning  on  her 
and  looking  down  at  the  book.  I  do  not  think  Flora  has  a 
down  look,  but  I  think  some  of  her  looks  down  are  very  becom- 
ing ;  and  if  Emily,  while  sitting  to  Arnold,  could  but  cast  up 
her  eyes,  in  the  act  of  recollecting,  and  repeating  some  favorite 
passage  of  poetry,  I  think  the  painter  could  not  well  conceive 
anything  better.  Take  care,  however,  that  he  does  not  infuse 
any  German  Empfindsamkeit  and  gefiihl  in  the  picture.  Let 
it  be  as  unaffected  and  natural  as  the  beings  it  represents. 
Perhaps,  when  you  think  more  on  the  subject,  or  they  come  to 
sit  to  the  painter,  some  other  or  better  attitude  may  suggest 
itself.  I  have  merely  given  my  idea  with  respect  to  the  one 
you  suggested. 

Do  not,  I  beg  of  you,  give  yourself  any  more  trouble  about 


APPENDIX.  401 

Montucci  and  the  sketch.  It  is  really,  really  of  no  importance 
to  me,  particularly  as  I  do  not  intend  to  have  it  engraved  for 
America.  At  first  I  did  feel  a  little  solicitous,  and  I  wished  it 
to  supplant  the  likeness  already  engraved  for  my  country,  in 
which  I  am  made  to  look  like  such  a  noodle,  that,  if  I  really 
thought  I  looked  so,  I  would  kick  myself  out  of  doors.  But  I 
am  quite  well  satisfied  with  the  sketch  of  the  young,  so  let 
Montucci  do  as  he  pleases  about  it. 

I  can  give  you  nothing  in  return  for  the  interesting  little 
pictures  you  draw  in  your  letters  of  your  family  circle.  Do 
let  me  have  as  many  of  them  as  you  can ;  and  yet  they  only 
(play  the  fool  with  me)  make  me  wish  myself  back,  and — 
well — well — well ! 

I  wish  to  heaven  I  could  get  these  wandering  thoughts  of 
mine  to  settle  down  on  paper !  I  think,  if  I  could  get  my  mind 
fully  employed  upon  some  work,  it  would  be  a  wonderful  relief 
to  me ;  at  present  I  am  all  discomposed. 

I  must  finish  this  letter,  that  I  may  be  in  time  for  the  post. 
Mr.  Cockburn  desires  me  to  thank  you  most  heartily  for  your 
kindness  in  sending  him  the  letters,  and  for  your  attention  to 
his  brothers. 

Give  my  warmest  remembrance  to  your  little  family  circle. 
Yours  truly, 

"Washington  Irving. 

P.  S. — The  continued  illness  of  Cockburn  puts  the  journey 
with  Lutzerode  out  of  the  question.  I  never  made  any  fixed 
engagement  to  go  with  him,  and  hope  he  is  not  calculating 
upon  it.  Have  you  heard  whether  he  is  or  no  ?  I  can  say 
nothing  about  my  future  movements,  for,  as  yet,  my  mind  is  in 
confusion  on  the  subject,  and  I  do  not  like  to  confess  all  the 
wild  ideas  and  impulses  that  flit  across  it. 

Peagce,  Saturday,  June  13,  1823. 

I  have  just  got  your  letter  of  Tuesday,  my  dear  Mrs.  Fos- 
ter.   Your  kindness  really  overpowers  me.    How  stupid  I  was, 
Vol.  IV.— (26) 


402  APPENDIX. 

not  to  have  written  earlier  last  week  !  and  how  intolerable  arft 
those  tedious  Germans  with  their  post  horses  and  post  offices, 
that  letters,  when  they  are  written,  are  so  slow  in  coming  to 
hand  !  Really  I  grow  heartily  weary  of  this  langsam  country. 
Your  letter,  which  I  have  just  received,  I  ought  to  have  re- 
ceived yesterday  morning ;  and  I  began  to  wonder  at  your 
silence,  and  to  conjecture  whether  the  measles  had  really  got 
into  the  family. 

I  thank  you  a  thousand  and  a  thousand  times  for  the  kind, 
the  very  kind  solicitude  you  express  about  me — you,  who  have 
so  many  dear,  delightful  things  at  home  to  occupy  heart  and 
soul,  to  trouble  yourself  about  a  wanderer  like  me !  I  am 
happy  to  be  able  to  give  you  a  good  account  both  of  my  com- 
panion and  myself.  Mr.  Cockburn  is  entirely  free  from  fever ; 
nothing  ails  him  now  but  weakness,  and  he  is  daily  gaining 
strength.  He  sits  up  the  greater  part  of  the  day,  in  defiance 
of  the  doctor's  advice,  and  finds  both  strength  and  spirits  re- 
cruited by  it,  both  of  which  had  been  in  a  very  languid  state 
while  lying  in  bed. 

As  to  myself,  I  believe  I  may  consider  myself  as  out  of  all 
danger  of  contagion ;  my  health  is  as  usual,  and,  now  that  my 
companion  can  sit  up  and  amuse  himself,  I  go  out  a  good  deal 
in  the  open  air.  There  are  really  delightful  walks  in  the  vicin- 
ity of  this  place.  I  often  wish  for  you  all  here,  that  I  might 
show  you  some  charming  strolls.  There  are  several  islands  in 
the  Muldau  that  are  laid  out  in  walks ;  one  that  particularly 
delights  me  is  called,  I  think,  der  Grosser  Venedig.  It  is  cov- 
ered with  trees,  and  has  the  most  beautiful  shady  avenues  and 
rambling  footpaths,  that  wind  among  groves  and  thickets  along 
the  banks  of  the  Muldau.  I  spend  hours  there  in  the  morning, 
before  the  Germans  come  to  poison  the  air  with  themselves  and 
their  tobacco  pipes ;  as  the  pure  air  is  too  insipid  for  a  German. 
Indeed,  he  knows  as  little  what  pure  air  is,  as  a  drunkard  does 
of  pure  water :  they  both  must  qualify  the  element  to  their 
palates.  I  don't  know  a  better  punishment  for  German  delin- 
quents, than  to  deprive  them  of  their  pipes,  and  banish  them  to 


APPENDIX.  403 

Buenos  Ayres — they'd  die  of  the  purity  of  the  air.    But  enough 
of  the  Germans — how  came  I  to  talk  of  them  ? 

I  am  delighted  to  hear  such  good  accounts  of  Troppeneger. 
Those  dear  little  boys  ! — I  am  glad  they  have  got  a  worthy  fel- 
low to  take  care  of  them,  who  feels  the  value  and  importance 
of  the  trust  confided  to  him.  I  like  his  schemes,  and  projects, 
and  theories,  and  enterprises ;  they  show  zeal  and  interest  in 
what  he  is  about,  and  bespeak  a  simplicity  of  heart  which,  when 
it  is  combined  with  good  mental  qualities,  is,  I  think,  invalu- 
able. I  like  a  man  of  sense,  who,  now  and  then,  in  the  fulness 
of  his  heart,  does  things  to  make  one  smile.  He  is  worth  a 
dozen  of  those  coolheaded,  wary  fellows,  who  never  do  a  fool- 
ish thing ;  they  as  seldom  do  a  kind  one. 

I  must  finish  this  letter  to  get  it  to  the  post  office  (which  is 
nearly  a  mile  off),  before  a  gathering  storm  of  rain  and  thun- 
der cuts  off  all  communication.  "Will  you  tell  Emily  and  Flora 
that  their  kind  wishes  are  more  gratifying  to  me  than  I  can 
express  ?  Good  heavens  !  what  would  I  give  to  be  with  you 
all  this  evening,  at  the  strawberry  supper  you  speak  of ! 

Mr.  Cockburn  desires  me  to  express  to  you  his  very  great 
sense  of  your  kindness  to  his  mother  and  to  himself. 

God  bless  you  all ! 

Yours  truly, 

"Washington  Irving. 

"Will  you  remember  me  kindly  to  the  Rumignys,  and  tell 
them  I  thank  them  heartily  for  their  inquiries  ? 

Bordeaux,  Jan.  9,  1826. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Foster  : 

Your  letter,  without  a  date,  has  been  forwarded  to  me  from 
Paris,  and  stares  me  in  the  face  with  silent  reproach  of  my  long 
procrastination.  I  have,  as  usual,  intended  and  reintended  to 
write  to  you,  but  the  mood  and  spirit  have  failed  me,  and  I 
have  kept  on  deferring  from  day  to  day,  without  reflecting  that 
days  and  days  imperceptibly  make  up  months.  I  have  indeed 
been  full  of  anxiety  and  uneasiness.     I  came  down  into  this 


404  APPENDIX. 

part  of  France  with  my  brother,  last  summer,  to  pass  the  vint- 
age  at  the  chateau  of  a  friend,  in  the  midst  of  the  vineyards 
of  Medoc.  While  there,  I  first  heard  of  the  storm  that  was 
breaking  upon  the  busy  world.  I  of  course  felt  uneasy  for  my 
friends  and  connections  who  were  subject  to  its  injuries,  when, 
shortly  after,  I  received  the  distressing  account  of  the  failure 
of  my  excellent  friend  Mr.  Williams.  For  a  time  I  was  com- 
pletely confounded  by  this  intelligence.  Independent  of  the 
grief  I  felt  for  the  ruin  of  a  man  who  had  always  exerted  such 
a  paternal  kindness  toward  his  countrymen,  and  particularly 
toward  myself,  I  did  not  know  how  far  the  interests  of  my  im- 
mediate connections  and  of  myself  might  be  involved  in  his 
misfortunes.  In  fact,  I  remained  here  for  some  time  in  doubt 
whether  we  were  not  all  ruined. 

To  divert  my  mind  from  brooding  over  mere  surmises  and 
apprehensions  during  the  long  interval  of  uncertainty  that  must 
necessarily  take  place,  I  determined  to  apply  myself  closely  to 
a  course  of  study  and  of  literary  occupations.  I  had  an  excel- 
lent library  of  a  friend  at  command ;  so,  pitching  my  tent  for 
the  winter,  I  went  doggedly  to  work  to  drive  my  mind,  in  spite 
of  itself,  into  a  channel  of  thought,  and  to  shut  out  resolutely 
the  cares  that  were  thronging  upon  me.  In  a  little  while  I 
succeeded  ;  and  when  I  look  back  on  all  that  I  have  read,  and 
noted,  and  extracted  during  the  time,  and  the  original  manu- 
scripts I  have  written,  I  am  surprised  at  myself.  A  great  deal 
of  my  reading  has  been  in  Italian  literature,  of  which  I  had  a 
very  good  collection  at  hand.  I  have  not  been  writing  with 
any  view  to  speedy  publication,  but  rather  as  an  exercise  for  my 
mind,  which  likes  to  travel  upon  paper.  The  good  effects  of 
this  literary  occupation  have  been,  not  merely  to  relieve  my 
mind  from  the  immediate  anxiety  which  pressed  upon  it,  but 
also  to  lift  it  out  of  a  kind  of  slough  of  apathy  and  almost 
melancholy  into  which  it  had  sunk,  and  which,  at  times,  made 
life  a  burden  to  me.  While  thus  employed,  the  aspect  of 
affairs  has  gradually  improved.  I  have  had  time  to  receive  let- 
ters from  my  friends,  which  allay  the  apprehensions  I  had  en- 


APPENDIX.  405 

tertained  on  their  account,  and  give  me  reason  to  expect  that, 
after  the  confusion  of  the  moneyed  world  has  subsided,  every- 
thing will  go  on  again  smoothly  and  prosperously.  And  thus 
I  have  given  you  another  chapter  of  my  humdrum  history. 

I  shall  remain  here  until  spring.  I  can  live  quietly  here, 
being  but  little  disturbed  by  visits  or  invitations,  and  having 
my  time  to  myself  for  reading,  and  writing,  and  thinking ; 
whereas,  in  Paris,  I  was  continually  subject  to  interruptions  and 
distractions.  I  envy  you  the  perfect  quiet  of  the  country  : 
there  is  nothing  I  should  more  delight  in,  had  I  a  library  at 
hand,  and  a  family  circle  to  resort  to  when  tired  of  all  solitude. 
I  enjoyed  this  while  down  in  Medoc,  where  I  could  be  all  day 
by  myself,  if  I  pleased,  in  one  wing  of  a  great  French  chateau, 
or  galloping  at  random  about  those  vast  heaths  called  The 
Landes,  which  had  something  grand  in  their  space  and  silence. 
After  having  lived  for  some  time  in  a  capital  where  one's  time 
and  mind  are  cut  up  into  mere  bits,  there  is  something  delight- 
ful in  the  long  tracts  of  quiet  and  thought  which  one  enjoys  in 
the  country.  Your  minds  must  by  this  time  be  crowded  even 
to  the  top  shelves,  being  such  indefatigable  readers.  I  should 
like  to  have  seen  you  all  when  the  Count  Einsiedler  made  his 
appearance  among  you.  He  must  have  felt  astonished  at  find- 
ing himself  in  such  a  little  world. 

By  the  by,  I  met  Prince  Frederick  of  Dresden  in  Paris  last 
spring,  who  laid  aside  all  court  stateliness,  and  was  extremely 
cordial  and  sociable.  He  asked  after  you  all  very  kindly.  I 
have  had  two  or  three  messages  from  the  old  Queen,  through 
different  channels,  during  my  stay  in  Paris. 

Give  my  affectionate  remembrances  to  your  family. 

Farewell !  and  believe  me,  under  all  changes  of  time,  place, 
and  fortune,  Very  truly  your  friend, 

"Washington  Irving. 

The  following  poem  Mr.  Irving  wrote  in  my  scrap  book 
when  he  was  in  London  in  1832.  He  declared  it  was  impos- 
sible for  him  to  be  less  in  a  writing  mood : 


406  APPENDIX. 


ECHO   AND  SILENCE. 

In  eddying  course  when  leaves  began  to  fly, 
And  Autumn  in  her  lap  the  stores  to  strew, 
As  'mid  wild  scenes  I  chanced  the  Muse  to  woo 
Through  g'ens  untrod,  and  woods  that  frown'd  on  high, 
Two  sleeping  nymphs  with  wonder  mute  I  spy : 
And  lo  !  she's  gone — in  robe  of  dark -green  hue : 
'Twas  Echo,  from  her  sister  Silence  flew, 
For  quick  the  hunter's  horn  resounded  to  the  sky. 

In  shade  affrighted  Silence  melts  away  ; 

Not  so  her  sister.     Hark  !     For  onward  still 

"With  far-heard  step  she  takes  her  listening  way, 

Bounding  from  rock  to  rock,  and  hill  to  hill : 

Ah  !  mark  the  merry  maid  in  mockful  play, 

With  thousand  mimic  tones,  the  laughing  forests  fill. 


[The  following  letter  of  Mr.  Irving  to  Mrs.  Flora  Dawson,  and  the  few 
lines  which  preface  it,  as  if  from  the  editor,  were  also  inserted,  without  my 
knowledge,  in  the  English  edition  of  my  third  volume,  where  they  will  be 
found  in  Chapter  XXI,  at  page  314,  corresponding  to  page  382  of  the 
American.] 

On  the  5tli  of  February,  he  wrote  the  following 
letter,  recalling  some  of  the  incidents  of  his  life  since 
they  met,  and  describing  his  mode  of  life  at  Sunnyside, 
to  Mrs.  Dawson  (Flora  Foster) :  * 

3S  Harlet  Steeet,  London,  Feb.  5,  1846. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Dawson  : 

Your  letter  (which  I  did  not  receive  until  after  my  return 
to  town)  has  indeed  called  up  delightful  recollections  of  past 
times,  of  "  moving  accidents  by  flood  and  field,"  and  of  those 
valued  friends  who  shared  them  with  me.  I  would  at  once 
accept  your  kind  invitation,  and  come  to  Flitwick  to  talk  over 

*  See  Vol.  II. 


APPENDIX.  407 

old  times,  but  at  present  I  am  not  my  own  master.  I  have 
come  unexpectedly  to  England  to  transact  some  business  with 
the  American  Minister  at  this  Court ;  and  as  soon  as  I  can 
despatch  it — which  I  trust  will  be  in  the  course  of  three  or 
four  days — I  have  to  hasten  back  to  the  Continent.  I  expect, 
however,  to  visit  England  again  in  the  course  of  the  spring  or 
summer,  when  I  will  be  more  at  leisure,  and  will  then  avail 
myself  of  your  invitation.  I  have  long  been  desirous  of  hav- 
ing intelligence  of  you  all.  I  received  a  letter,  a  few  years 
since,  from  one  of  your  brothers  resident  in  Jamaica,  intro- 
ducing a  friend,  and,  in  my  reply,  made  inquiries  about  the 
family.  As  he  never  answered  my  letter,  I  fear  he  did  not 
receive  it.  It  is  a  hazardous  thing  to  make  inquiries  about 
friends  after  such  a  lapse  of  years,  but  I  wish  you  would  give 
me  such  particulars  of  family  news  as  would  be  pleasant  to 
give  and  to  receive. 

As  to  myself,  on  my  return  to  America  I  built  me  a  pretty 
little  cottage  on  the  banks  of  the  Hudson,  in  a  beautiful  coun- 
try, and  not  far  from  my  old  haunts  of  Sleepy  Hollow.  Here 
I  passed  several  years  most  happily  ;  my  cottage  well  stocked 
with  nieces,  and  enlivened  by  visits  from  friends  and  connec- 
tions, having  generally  what  is  called  in  Scotland  a  houseful — 
that  is  to  say,  a  circle  more  than  it  will  hold.  This  state  of 
things  was  too  happy  to  last.  I  was  unexpectedly  called  from 
it,  by  being  appointed  Minister  to  Madrid.  It  was  a  hard 
struggle  for  me  to  part  from  my  cottage  and  my  nieces,  but  I 
put  all  under  charge  of  my  brother,  and  promised  to  return  at 
the  end  of  three  years.  I  have  overstayed  my  time ;  nearly 
four  years  have  elapsed.  I  understand  my  cottage  is  nearly 
buried  among  the  trees  I  set  out,  and  overrun  with  roses  and 
honeysuckles  and  ivy  from  Melrose  Abbey  ;  and  my  nieces 
implore  me  to  come  back  and  save  them  from  being  buried 
alive  in  foliage.  I  have  accordingly  sent  in  my  resignation  to 
Government,  and  am  now  going  back  to  Madrid  to  await  the 
arrival  of  my  successor.  "When  relieved  from  the  duties  and 
restraints  of  office,  I  shall  make  farewell  visits  to  my  friends  in 


408  •  APPENDIX. 

England  and  elsewhere ;  then  ship  myself  for  America,  and 
hasten  back  to  my  cottage,  where  everything  is  ready  for  my 
reception,  and  where  I  have  but  to  walk  in,  hang  up  my  hat, 
kiss  my  nieces,  and  take  my  seat  in  my  elbow  chair  for  the 
remainder  of  my  life. 

I  have  thus,  my  dear  Mrs.  Dawson,  given  you  my  own  his- 
tory, as  they  do  in  story  books,  in  the  expectation  that  you  will 
give  me  your  own  in  return.     In  the  mean  time,  believe  me, 
with  the  kindest  and  warmest  sentiments  of  regard, 
Most  truly,  your  friend, 

Washington  Irving. 


(B.)— PROVISIONS   OF   THE  WILL. 

The  following  is  an  abstract  of  Mr.  Irving's  Will,  which 
was  drawn  up  by  himself.  It  bears  date  on  the  3d  day  of 
December,  1858,  not  quite  a  year  before  his  death.  He  de« 
clares  his  general  intention  to  be,  to  dispose  of  all  his  estate  so 
that  it  may  be,  as  far  as  possible,  kept  together  as  a  mainten- 
ance for  his  brother  Ebenezer  and  his  daughters,  who  have 
been  accustomed  to  reside  with  him,  to  enable  them  to  live 
with  the  same  degree  of  comfort  and  in  the  same  respectable 
style  they  have  been  accustomed  to  under  his  roof. 

He  gives  to  his  nephew,  Pierre  Munro  Irving,  the  copyright 
of  his  Life  of  Washington,  with  the  stereotype  and  electrotype 
plates  which  have  been  executed  for  the  same,  and  the  plates 
engraved  for  its  illustration,  together  with  the  printed  copies  of 
the  work  which  may  have  been  stricken  off,  leaving  him  to  do 
with  the  copyright,  types,  &c,  what  he  may  think  proper  for 
his  pecuniary  benefit.  He  bequeaths  to  him,  also,  all  his  let- 
ters and  unpublished  manuscripts. 

All  the  rest  of  his  personal  estate  he  gives  to  his  brother 
Ebenezer  for  his  life  ;  and,  on  his  death,  to  his  daughters,  then 
surviving  him  and  unmarried.     The  Will  then  proceeds : 


APPENDIX.  4Q9 

Second,  I  give  and  devise  my  land  and  dwelling  house  in 
"Westchester  County,  which  I  have  called  Sunnyside,  to  my 
brother,  Ebenezer  Irving,  for  his  life.  On  his  death,  I  give  the 
same  in  fee  to  his  daughters  or  daughter  surviving  him,  and  un- 
married ;  trusting  they  will  endeavor,  as  I  have  endeavored, 
to  make  this  homestead  a  rallying  point,  where  the  various 
branches  of  the  family  connection  may  always  be  sure  of  a 
cordial  welcome. 

I  trust,  ajso,  they  will  never  sell  nor  devise  this  particular 
property  out  of  the  family — though  circumstances  may  render 
it  expedient  or  necessary  for  them  to  rent  it  out  or  lease  it  for 
a  term ;  but  it  is  my  wish  that  the  last  survivor  of  those  to 
whom  I  thus  bequeath  my  estate  will,  in  turn,  bequeath  it 
entire  to  some  meritorious  member  of  the  family  bearing  the 
family  name,  so  that  Sunnyside  may  continue  to  be,  as  long  as 
possible,  an  Irving  homestead. 

I  give  all  the  residue  of  my  estate,  real  and  personal,  to 
accompany  the  devise  of  Sunnyside  to  the  same  persons,  for 
the  like  interests,  and  subject  to  the  like  contingencies  and 
power. 

Third,  I  authorize  my  executors  to  make  sale  of,  or  other- 
wise convert  into  money  or  productive  funds,  all  other  land3 
and  tenements  I  may  own,  wheresoever  situated. 

Last,  I  appoint  my  brother,  Ebenezer  Irving,  and  my 
nephew,  Pierre  M.  Irving,  executors  of  this  my  will.  I  revoke 
vill  other  and  former  wills. 


Vol.  IV.— 18 


410  APPENDIX. 


(C.)— LITERARY   STATISTICS. 

Sums  realized  by  Mr.  Irving  for  his  Copyrights  in 
England. 


Sketch  Book,                      Murray, 

Publisher, 

£467  105. 

Braceb  ridge  Hall, 

it 

1,050  00 

Tales  of  a  Traveller, 

u 

1,575  00 

Life  of  Columbus, 

u 

3,150  00 

Companions  of  Columbus, 

<( 

525   00 

Conquest  of  Granada, 

u 

2,100  00 

Tour  on  the  Prairies, 

u 

400  00 

Abbotsford  and  Newstead, 

» 

400  00 

Legends  of  Spain, 

a 

100  00 

Alhambra,                            Bentley 

,  Publisher, 

1,050  00 

Astoria, 

a 

500  00 

Bonneville's  Adventures, 

Total, 

900  00 

£12,217   105. 

Sums  realized  in  the  United  States,  where  there  was  no 
absolute  sale  of  the  Copyright,  as  in  England. 

Life  of  Columbus,  1st  edition,   ....  $3,000  00 

"             "           and  Abridgment,  2d  edition,  6,000  00 

Conquest  of  Granada  (for  five  years),     .         .  4,750  00 

Companions  of  Columbus  (3,000  copies),    .         .  1,500  00 

Alhambra, 3,000  00 

Tour  on  the  Prairies,          ......  2,400  00 

Abbotsford  and  Newstead,    .         .         .         .  2,100  00 

Legends  of  the  Conquest  of  Spain,     .         .         .  1,500  00 

Astoria, 4,000  00 

Bonneville's  Adventures, 3,000  00 

Lease  of  Copyright,  from  1828  to  1835,  of  Knick- 
erbocker's New  York,  Sketch  Book,  Brace- 
bridge  Hall,  and  Tales  of  a  Traveller,       .  4,200  00 


APPENDIX.  411 

Lease  of  Copyright  of  the  same  works,  and  Life 
of  Columbus,  Conquest  of  Granada,  Compan- 
ions of  Columbus,  and  Alhambra,  from  1835 
to  1842, $8,050  00 

Estimated  receipts,  prior  to  1828,  on  History  of 
New  York,  Sketch  Book.  Bracebridge  Hall, 
and  Tales  of  a  Traveller,  .         .         .  19,500  00 


Making  a  total  on  the  American  Copyrights  of  the 

above  enumerated  works,  prior  to  1843,  of         $63,000  00 


Hiatus  from  1842  to  1848,  in  which  the  author's 

writings  were  out  of  print. 
In  the  latter  year,  Mr.  George  P.  Putnam  became 

his  Publisher. 

Total  of  receipts  from  Mr.  Putnam,  from  July, 
1848,  to  Mr.  Irving's  decease,  November  28, 
1859,  (besides  stereotype  and  steel  plates, 
amounting  to  about  $17,000.)  $88,143  08 

Payments  made  for  Irving's  "Works  by  Mr.  Put- 
nam, from  the  author's  decease  to  September 
30,  1863,  showing  the  continued  demand,    .  34,237  03 

$122,380   11 


Whole  amount  realized  on  his  "Works  during  his 

life $205,383  34 

Since  his  death  to  September  30,  1863,      .  34,237  03 

$239,620  37 


ANALYTICAL  INDEX 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  WASHINGTON  IRVING. 


A ,  Madame  de,  in   the  tableau  of 

the  Co  iception,  of  Murillo,  ii.  275, 
276,  296. 

A H ,  iv.  78, 126. 

Abbe's  French,  Romero's  story  of,  ii.  204. 

Abbotsford.  S-e  Irving,  Washington  ; 
Scoit,  Sir  Walter. 

Abbotsford  and  Newstead  Abbey,  pub- 
lication an  1  receptio  i  of,  iii.  70,  71. 
72,  73  ;  referred  to,  iii.  229  ;  iv.  51. 

Abenceirjges,  the,  ii.  2S9,  393. 

Aberdeen,  Lord,  an  unwilling  sailor,  iii. 
309  ;  referred  to,  ii.  193,  390. 

Absolutsts  of  Spain,  1844,  iii.  371. 

Abul  Hassan,  translated  by  W.  I.,  ii. 
171. 

Academy  of  Fine  Arts  at  Philadelphia, 
i.  279. 

Acker  familv,  near  Sunnyside,  iii.  236. 

Acker,  Wolfert,  iv.  183. 

Acrostic,  "  My  Sweet  G  rl,"  iv. 302. 

Activity  and  promptness,  importance 
of,  ii.  221. 

Actors,  fends  of,  ii.  181. 

Adams,  John,  character  of,  iv.  282. 

Adams,  John  Qumcy,  defeated  in  1828, 
ii.  348,  368  ;  President  of  United 
States,  iii.  23,  n. 

Adam--,  Samuel,  the  Apostle  of  Popular 
Liberty,  iv.  245. 

Addison,  Joseph,  W.  C.  Brvant  on,  i. 
212 ;  W.  I.  performs  in  his  Cat o,  i.  29. 

Adelaide,  Midline,  sister  to  Louis  Phil- 
ippe, iii.  207,  2<JS. 

Adelantado,  the  brother  of  Columbus, 
ii.  327. 

Adra,  Spain,  the  mines  of,  ii.  305,  398. 

Adventures  in  the  W'Ids  of  America,  by 
C.  Lanman,  iv.  225,  226,  228. 

Adventures  of  Captain  Bonneville,  pre- 
paration of,  iii.  08,  113,  114  ;  sale  of 
copyright,  114  ;  referred  to,  iv.  S2,  88. 


Agapida,  Fray  Antonio.    See  Chronicle 

of  the  Co.. quest  of  Granada. 
Agnes,  Madame,  v.  323. 
Airey,  General,  anJ  his  story,  ii.  183. 
Aix-la-Chapelle,  ii.  92. 
Albany,  New  York,  in  1800-1810,  i.  40, 

41,  217,  245. 
Albert,  Prince,  deser'bed,  iii.  193  ;  pre- 
sides at  dinner  of  the  Literary  Fund, 
198  ,  as  Edward  III.,  iii.  201,  202. 
Alboni,  Madame,  social  chara?ter  of,  iv, 

116;  in  ihe  Sonnambula,  122. 
Album  of  Deep  Dene.     See  Deep  Dene. 
Albuquerque,  Mr  and  Mrs.,  iii.  217,  219, 

220,  244.  2S5,  327,  342,  378,  393. 
Alc:iid,  by  Kenney,  failure  of,  ii.  207. 
Alcala,  irate  of,  Madrid,  iii.  291. 
Alcala  de  la  Guadayra,  ii.  321,  322. 
Alcock,  Colonel,  ii.  189. 
Algiers,  pirates  of,  i.  95 ;  and  the  United 

Stales,  war  between,  i.  327. 
A'hambra : 
Court  of  the  L:ons  in,  ii.  353. 
described,  ii.  28S,  289,  290,  291. 
Garden  of  the  Lindaxara  in,  ii.  390, 

391,  393. 
governor  of,  ii.  382,  3?5. 
Irving's  residence  in,  in  1829,  ii.  380, 
406.  408  ;  iii.  31,  197,   198,  218,  369  ; 
iv.  235,  236. 
illustrations  of,  by  Owen  Jones,   iv. 

236. 
Legends  of  the  Conquest   of    Spain 

completed  in,  ii.  389. 
Moore's  Legacy  completed  in,  ii.  393. 
photographs  of,  iv.  236. 
Alhamhra,  Tales  of  the,  composition  and 
publication  of  and  onmions  on,  etc., 
ii.  365,  437,  442,  470,  4S1,  485  ;  iii.  17, 
21,  396  ;  iv.  53,   64,  85,  88,  188,  217. 
235,  236  ,  sold  for  1,000  guineas  ;  ii. 
485. 
Alicant,  ii.  411  ;  insurrection  in,  in  1844, 
iii.  321. 


414 


INDEX. 


Alideo,    Cardinal    Pedro,    Columbus's 

notes  on  his  work  on  cosmography, 

ii.  327. 
Alleghany  Mountains,  iv.  170,  226. 
Allu.one,  8.  Austin,  his  Dictionary  of 

Autnors,  iv.  5,  235.  See  Letters. 
Allston,  Washington.     See  Letters  : 
America,  returns  to,  i.  403,  405. 
Daniel  and  Bulshazzar  by,  i.  362,  365, 

399. 
described,  i.  130,  405  ;  iv.  243,  325. 
great  masters,  on,  i.  130. 
Irving's  first  meeting  witb,i.  129. 
Jacob's  Dream  by,  i.  402. 
Knickerbocker's   New  York,   his  de- 
signs for,  i.  361,  363,  397,  400  ;  ii.  27, 

31. 
Uriel  and  Elijah  by,  i.  398,  399. 
Almociovar,  Count,  Spanish  Minister  of 

Foreign  Allairs,   1842,  hi.   219,  220, 

221. 
Alpujarras,  the,  ii.  294,  298,  299,  301,  305. 
Alva  and  Berwick,  Duke  of,  marriage  of, 

iii.   323  ;    iv.  134  ,   Duchess  of,  iii. 

323. 
Amelia  of  Spain,  iii.  369. 
Amelia,  Princess    of   Bavaria,  ii.    132, 

135. 
Amelia,  Princess  of  Saxony,  ii.  32,  133. 
America,  by  A.  H.  Everett,  ii.  336. 
American  Authors,   Homes  of,  iv.  91, 

147.  , 

American   books,   republication   of  in 

Great  Britain,  iv.  90. 
American  Cyclopaedia,  iv.  54. 
American  energy,  iv.  240. 
American  Essays.     See  Essays,   Amer- 
ican. 
American  literature  to  be  fostered,  iii. 

150. 
American   merchant,  languages  useful 

to,  ii.  235,  237. 
American  scenery,  beauty  of,  iii.  31,  37, 

38,  155,  169,  170. 
America,  Young,  on  its  travels,  iv.  259. 
Americans  as  travellers,  iv.  184,  259. 
Ames,  Barrett,  W.  I.  visits  in  1858,  iv. 

262  ;  in  1859,  307. 
Ames.  Hector,  attache,  iii.  182,  203,  216, 

251,  281,  342. 
Amory,  Nathaniel,  of  Boston,  i.  122. 
Amsterdam,  described,  ii   90,  91. 
Analectic  Magazine,  i.  350  ;  Irving  edits, 

299  ;  Irving  contributes  to,  459  ;  Ver- 

planck  reviews  the  Sketch  Book  in, 

419. 
Anastasius,  by  Thomas  Hope,  ii.  83,  84, 

87. 
Andalusians,  described,  ii.  308,317,322, 

328  ,  spring  in,  295  .  travelling  in,  in 

1828,  ii.  308. 
Andre,  Major,  ii.  413  ,  monument  to  the 

captors  of,  iv.  330. 
Andujar,  ii;  287. 
Angelo,  Michael,  Last  Judgment  of,  ii. 

"438. 
Angiing  in  England  and  America,  iv. 

31. 
Angoulcme,  iii.  215. 


Anguera,  Don  Pablo,  iii.  347. 

Anne  of  Brittany,  iii.  201. 

Annette  Delarbre,  scene  of  the  story  of, 
ii.  31  ;  referred  to,  iv.  48. 

Anthology,  Monthly,  one  of  the  authors 
of,  i.  188  ;  notice  of  in  Knickerbock- 
er's New  i'ork,  i.  237. 

Antiquaries,  the  Scotch,  iv.  258. 

Antiquary  the,  by  SirW.  Scott,  iv.  261. 

Antiquites  Mexicaines,  iii.  141. 

Anto  ne,  Prince  of  Saxony,  ii.  132,  134, 
135.  139,  149. 

Antonio,  Spanish  cook,  iii.  217,  218. 

Apo.-tolica!s  of  Spain,  1844,  iii.  372. 

Appendix  A  (not  considered  as  a  por- 
tion of  the  Life  and  Letters)  and 
the  Appendixes  which  follow  are 
not  represented  in  the  Index. 

Arabian  Nights'Entertainments,  charms 
of,  iii.  349. 

Arabs  in  Spain,  domination  of,  ii.  270. 

Arana,  Chevalier  de,  iii.  335,  352. 

Aranjuez,  iii.  324,  325,  326,  337  ;  gardens 
of,  ii.  322. 

Archbishop  of  Granada  and  Gil  Bias 
iv.  19,  54,  284. 

Arco  Hermosa,  Marchioness  of,  ii.  363. 

Arcos,  Mr.,  Madrid,  i.i.  375. 

Ardnot,  John,  in  100. 

Arethusa,  the  fountain  of,  i.  108. 

Arguelles,  Don  Augustin,  guardian  of 
Isabella  II.,  iii.  222,  223,  236  ;  super- 
seded, 295,  296  ;  dies,  330  ;  character 
of,  330. 

Armstro*  g,  General,  Secretary  of  War, 
i.  293. 

Arnold,  Benedict,  treason  of,  iii.  168. 

Arragon  and  Castile  united,  iii.  346. 

Arthur's  Seat  described  by  W.  I.  i.  378. 

Artists  should  be  encouraged  by  men  of 
opulence,  i.  244. 

Ashburton,  Lord,  and  Daniel  Webster, 
treaty  made  by,  iii.  249. 

Ashby,  Miss,  ii.  462. 

Ashby,  Mr.,  of  Ashby  Hall,  ii.  462. 

Aspinwall,  Colonel  Thomas,  ii.  335,  379, 
388, 391 
Alhambra,  TalcB  of  the,  sold  by,  ii.  485. 
Columbus,  Life  of,  sold  by,  ii.  263. 
Conquest  of  Granada  sold  by,  ii.  341, 

348,  352,  360,  363. 
Crayon  Miscellany  and,  iii.  70. 
Kidd,  Captain,  and,  ii.  195. 
Tour  on  the  Prairies  and,  iii.  65. 

Assumption,  tableau  of  the,  ii.  296. 

Asten,  Mr.,  British  Minister  at  Madrid, 
1842-'3,  iii.  250,  257  ;  leaves  Madrid, 
311. 

Asthma,  Remedy  for  the,  iv.  272. 

Astor  Library,  iv.  227,  236,  244,  289. 
Cogswell,  J.  G.,  Librarian  of,  iii.  181. 
Irvine's  agency  in,  iv.  35,  52,  113,  119, 
169,  171,  256,  281. 

Astor,  John  Jacob,  iii.  87,  88,  92,  209  : 
Astoria  and,  iii.  60. 
character  of,  iii.  61. 

Irving  a  guest  of.  iii.  78,  79,  81,  83,  85, 
119, 134  ,  iv.  35.  ;  executor  of,  iv.  38, 
52, 113, 119. 


INDEX. 


415 


Astor,  'William  B.,  his  opinion  of  As- 
toria, iii.  92. 

Astoria,  composition  and  publication  of, 
opinions  on,  etc.,  i.  59  ,  iii.  59-64, 
69.  72,  77,  78,  79,  81,  85,  86,  88,  90,  92, 
93, 163  :  iv  51,  88. 

As"i'ou  Like  It,  iv.  273. 

Athenaeum,  London,  on  "Wolfert's 
Roost,  iv.  187. 

Atlantic  Cable  celebration  in  1858,  iv. 
252. 

Atlantic  Monthly,  iv.  270  ;  Recollections 
of  Irving  in,  iv.  53. 

Audley,  the  seat  of  L.  G.  Washington, 
iv.  151, 152. 

Augusta,  Princess,  ii.  135. 

Aunt,  Story  of  the,  ii.  188. 

Austin,  Rev.  Mr  ,  ii.  149. 

Austria  blockades  Tangiers,  ii.  379  ; 
Princess  of,  ii.  132. 

Author,  History  of  an.  See  Buckthorne 
and  his  friends. 

Authors  : 
Allibone's  Dictionary  of,  iv.  235. 
Booksellers,  and  Festival  of,  1855,  iv. 

196. 
judgment  on,  in  life  and  after  death, 

iv.  213. 
publishers  and,  Sir  Walter  Scott  on,i. 
442. 

Authorship,  anxieties  of,  ii.  233  ;  prema- 
ture risks  of,  ii.  219  ,  the  best  spon- 
taneous, iv.  308,321. 

Autocrat  of  the  Breakfast  Table,  by  O. 
W.  Holmes,  iv.  264,  270. 

Autograph  hunters,  iv.  302,  317. 

Autolycus,  by  Leelie,  ii.  146. 

Auteuil,  W.  I.  quartered  at,  ii.  213. 

Avignon,  W.  I.  at,  in  1804,  i.  75,  76  ;  and 
in  1844,  iii.  360. 

Avon  Hale  in  spring  time,  iii.  161. 

Azendai,the  play  of,ii.  169, 170  ,  reduced 
by  W.  I.,  180. 


B 


B ,  Mr.,  iv.  132,  221. 

B ,  M'ss,  iv.  Ill 

B ,  Mrs.,  of  Syracuse,  iv.  158. 

Babbitt,  Rev.  Mr.,  iv.  329. 

Backgammon,  iv.  310. 

Baden,  Duchy  of,  ii.  105,  111,  115  ;  Elec- 
tors of,  111. 

Baden-Baden,  ii.  Ill ;  Vehm  Gericht  in, 
iv.  182. 

Bainbridge,  Commodore,  offered  a  com- 
mand to  Algiers,  i.  327. 

Baldwin,  Mr.,  iv.  163. 

Balfour,  Castle  Shapinsha,  iv.  223. 

Balfour,  Mr.,  of  Balfour  Castle,  iv.  223. 

Balmanno,  Mrs.,  her  Memoir  of  Mrs. 
Kenwick,  i.  266. 

Ball,  Sir  Isaac,  Governor  of  Malta,  i.  99. 

Baltimore  in  1807-14,  i.  189,  260,  274, 
313  ;  referred  to,  iii.  45,  50  ;  iv.  125, 
221. 

Baltimore  and  Ohio  Railroad  Company, 
iv.  282. 


Bancroft  George.    See  Letters  : 
History  of  the  United  States  by,  iv. 

196,  208,  245. 
Irving  reads  St.  Mark's  Eve  to,  ii.  51. 
on  Irving's    Life  of  Washington,  iv. 

19*,  208, 230, 281. 
oration  of,  in  1854,  iv.  184. 
Bancroft,  Mrs.  George,  on  W.  I.'s  Wash- 
ington, iv.  269. 
Bandinel,  James,  the  antiquary,  iii.  197. 
Banditti  tales,  ii.  205. 
Bank  of  the  United  States,  debate  in 

Congress  on,  in  1811,  i.  271 ;  and  An- 
drew Jackson,  iii.  21. 
Bankhead,  Mr.,  i.  148  ;  iii.  47. 
Banvard's  Diorama,  iv.  123. 
Barber  of  Seville,  Grisi  in,  iv.  181. 
Barbour,  John,  his  poem  of  The  Bruce, 

i.  15. 
Barcelona,  ii.  275,  277  ;  iii.  345,  346,  348, 

350,  354  ;  insurrection  in,  in  1842,  iii. 

259, 262,  279. 
Baring,  Francis,  ii.  423. 
Barings,  house  of  the,  iii.  142. 
Barker,  Dr.,  of  New  York,  iv.  289. 
Barlborough  Hall,  W.I.  visits,  ii.  460,  466. 
Barlow,  Joel,  Minister  to  France,  W.  I. 

proposed  as  Secretary  to,  i.  270-i,73  ; 

his  Columbiad  criticised,  270. 
Barney,  John,  iv.  90.     See  Letters 
Barney,  Miss,  of  Washington,  iv.  90. 
Barrell,  Mr.,  American  Consul  at  Mala- 
ga, ii.  306. 
Barton,  Alexander,  Consul  at  Madrid, 

iii.  229. 
Barton  family,  of  Bordeaux,  iii.  215. 
Barlett,  Mrs.,  presented  with  a  pen  by 

W.  I.,  iv.  276. 
Basle,  iii.  375. 

Bassanio,  by  Stuart  Newton,  ii.  445 
Bathurst,  Bishop,  i.  355. 
Bautiste  Serrano  de  Ecijn,  ii.  284. 
Bavaria,  King  of,  ii.  149,"  150  ;  peasantry 

of,  118  ;  court  life  in,  132, 137  ,  Queen 

of,  KL 
Bay  of  IS  aples.  See  Naples,  Bay  of  Bay- 

onne,  iii.  215. 
Beards,  habit  of  wearing,  iv.  316.     \ 
Beasley,  Bxuben,  American   Consul   at 

Havre,  ii.  15,  228,  242,  398,  403,  446. 

483  ,  iii.  14,  27,  68,  82,  203.  361. 
Beattie,  D.,  his  Life  of  Campbell,  i.  334. 
Beauharnais,  Eugene,  ii.  116. 
Bedford,  Duke  of,  duel  of,  with  the  Duke 

of  Buckingham,  ii.  79. 
Beekman     street,    Now    York,    Brick 

Church  in,  iv.  161. 
Beekman,  the  Widow,  iii.  220. 
Beekman  Woods,  iv.  161. 
Belinda,  by  Stuart  Newton, ii.  445. 
Belle  of  a  Metropolis,  ii.  317. 
Belles,  W.  I.'s  opinion  of,  i.  190. 
Belles' and  Bailiffs,  ii.  169. 
Belvidera,  Mrs.  Siddons  in,  in  1805,  i. 

159. 
Belzoni,  J.  B.,  described  by  W.  I.,  i.  462. 
Bentley,    Richard,    publishes   W.    I.'s 

works,  iii.  90, 114  ;  iv.  87-89,  and  his 

Life  and  Letters,  220.    See  Letters. 


416 


INDEX. 


Benavente,  Duchess  of,  If.  274,  278. 

Bergb,  Madame  de,  ii.  147. 

Ber.ja,  ruins  of,  ii.  294  ;  mines  of,  300. 

Berkeley  Springs,  Virginia,  iv.  157, 174. 

Ber.ial  Dias  on'Mexico,  i.i.  138. 

Bernard,  iv.  76. 

Berw  ck  m  1817,  i.  376. 

Berwick,  Duchess  of.  iii.  322. 

Berwick,  Duke  of,  iii.  323. 

Besa  manos  at  Madrid,  1844,  iii.  334, 
338,  340,  366,  368. 

Besborough,  Countess  of,  i.  454. 

Beverley  House,  the,  iii.  168. 

Bibliomania,  delights  of,  ii.  277. 

Bibliotheque  Royale,  i\  217  ;  iv.  95. 

Biddle,  Clement,  at  Washington  iulSll, 
i.  269. 

Biddle,  Nicholas,  iii.  123. 

Billy,  a  horse  of  YV.  I.'s,  iv.  136. 

Bird,  Mrs.,  at  Sestri  in  1804,  hospitality 
to  W.  I.,  i.  89. 

Birds  of  Spring,  the,  iii.  149. 

Birmingham,  iv.  249. 

Bishop  ,of  New  York,  iv.  196. 

Black  Forest  of  Germany,  ii.  112,  113, 
114. 

Black  Hawk.  W.  I.  visit?,  iii.  37. 

Blackwool,  William,  of  Edinburgh,  his 
Magazine,  i.  382. 

Blankinser,  Count,  ii.  135,  136. 

Blenheim,  ii.  466  ;  battle  of,  115. 

Biessington,  Lady,  on  the  death  of  Na- 
poleon, ii.  79. 

Blewitt,  Mr.,  iii.  199. 

Blombere,  Major,  and  the  ghost,  iv.  36. 

Blome,  Count,  ii.  134. 

Bloomrield,  Joseph  E.,  on  the  portraits 
of  Columbus,  iv.  91,  92. 

Boabdil  in  all  his  glory,  ii  289;  his  hu- 
miliation and  banishment,  290  ;  his 
portrait  discovered  by  W.  I.,  290. 

Boar  hunt  in  Bavaria,  ii.  140,  145. 

Boatswain  (Byron's  dog)  and  a  descen- 
dant, ii.  463. 

Boblink,  the,  iii.  149. 

Bodoni,  the  printer,  i v.  94. 

Bohl,  Mr.,  superintends  the  funeral  of 
J.  N.  Hall,  ii.  357,  358  ;  his  daugh- 
ter, ii.  363. 

Bohn,  Henry  G.,  publishes  W.  I.'s 
works,  iv.  87.  89.  90, 193. 

Bold  Drasroons'  Story  of  the,  ii.  188,  213. 

Bolivar  Copper  Mines,  ii.  240,  36S.  417. 

Bologna,  W.  I.  at,  in  1805,  i.  142. 

Bolviller,  Madame,  iii.  252. 

Bolviller,  Mademoiselle,  ii.  272,  273,  275, 
277,  319. 

Bonaparte,  King  Joseph,  iii.  232. 

B.maparte,  Napoleon  I.  . 
character  of,  i.  149. 
coronation  of,  i.  142. 
Elba,  returns  from,  i.  328,  330 
emperor,  i.  65. 
Entrbsh  treatment  of,  i.  332. 
St.  Helena,  Bails  for,  i.  332. 
Waterloo,  defeated  at,  i.  330. 

Bonbobbinnet,  Prince  Bonbommin  Eon- 
bobbin,  a  collection  of  curiosities,  ii. 
298. 


Bonneville,  Captain.  -SeeAdventures  of 
Captain  Bonneville. 

Bonshaw,  lrvines  of.     .See  Irving  of  B. 

Booksellers,  pecuniary  troubles  among. 
in  1826,  ii.  249. 

Booksellers'  Festival  in  1837,  iii.  114, 
115  ;  in  1S55,  iv.  196. 

Bordeaux,  W.  1.  at,  in  1804,  i.  68  ;  and  in 
1843-'4  ;  iii.  306,  379,  380. 

Borgia,  Lucretia,  by  Parodi  and  Truffi, 
iv.  76. 

Borgoiia,  Juan  de,  his  Spanish  portraits, 
iv.  95. 

Bosauquet,  Mr.,  i1.  269. 

Bo=si,  his  Life  of  Columlms,  iv.  94. 

Boston  Lyceum,  iii.  117,  118. 

Boston,  Siege  of,  liy  Richard  Frothing- 
ham,  jr.,  iv.  146. 

Boston  Telegraph  on  Wolfert's  Roost, 
iv.  188. 

Bothwell  Ostle,  iv.  257. 

Buttiger,  Mr.,  ii.  136,  267. 

Bourbo.  s  regain  power,  ii.  215. 

Bowls,  playing  at,  iv  153. 

Bjwrnan,  Mrs.,  iii.  95. 

Bowood,  Lord  La:  sdowne's  seat,  visit  to, 
ii.  199  ;  society  at,  209. 

Brace.  Charles  L.,  iv.  199  ,  on  Irvh:g's 
Washington,  207. 

Bracebr  d^e  Halt,  composition  and  pub- 
lication of,  opinions  on,  etc.,  i.  160, 
231  ,  ii.  38,  50,  54,  55,  71,  75,  76,  77,  79, 
80,  107,  117, 147,  186,  2S0,  n.,  3C6,  337, 
460;  iii  19,111,104,396,  iv.  48,  50, 
51,  217,  224,  231. 

Bradford  and  L.skeep,  failure  of,  L  326. 

Bradish,  Mrs.,  i.  306,  350. 

Braham  Young,  h  s  acting,  ii.  375. 

Bramin,  the.  ii!.  29,  80. 

Brandram,  Thomas,  W.  I.  travels  with, 
in  1822,  ii.  93. 

Brannegan,  Mr.  ii.  201. 

Brannegan,  Mrs.  ii.  208. 

Brazil,  Minister  of,  to  Spain,  1S42,  iii. 
220,  244. 

Bresson,  Count,  iii.  365. 

Brevoirt,  Henry  (JKe  Letters),  i.  6,  166, 
181,  211,  215,  232,  240,  255,  280.  281, 
282,  300,  306,  3S8,  414,  457  ;  ii.  243, 
437,  43S,  439,  400  ;  iii.  C9.  7!,  81,  168, 
169  ;  iv.  69, 203, 205, 233  ;  Scntl's  letter 
to,  on  Irvinu's  Knickerbocker,  i.  240. 

Brevoort,  Carson,  furnishes  P.  M.  Irving 
with  W.  I.'s  letters  to  bis  father,  i. 
6  .  referred  to,  iii.  1S2,  213,  216,  251, 
281,  30S,  342. 

Brisards  in  Spam,  ii.  303,  308 

Brinn,  the,  iv.  286,  28S. 

Bristed,  Charles  Astnr,  iii.  7S. 

Br  stol,  Pennsylvania,  ii'.  25. 

British  repulsed  at  Baltimore,  and  de- 
feated at  Pittsburgh  and  Lake 
Champlain,  i.  313. 

British  Classics,  proposed  by  Galignani, 
ii.  188. 

Brockedon,  Mr.,  ii.  222,  223. 

Broken  Heart,  the,  iv  46;  G.  C.  Ver- 
p'anck  on,  i.  420;  the  favorite  6tory 
of  the  Sketch  Book,  420. 


NDEX. 


417 


•^Brom,"  ill.  29. 

BromBo  ics,  fiction  of,  i,  448. 

Brooke,  Mr.,  travels  with  W.  I.  in  1822, 
ii.  122. 

Brooklyn  in  1832,  il.  4S9. 

Brotherhood,  W.  I.  on,  in  precept  and 
-  example,  ii.  14. 

Brown,  Cnarles  Brockden,  the  first 
American  who  made  a  profession  of 
literature,  i.  1S4  ;  visits  W.  I.  a;.d 
solicits  his  contributions  to  his  pa- 
per, i.  47. 

Bruce,  The,  by  John  Barbour,  i.  15. 

Bruce,  Robert,  6ecreUd  in  the  house  of 
De  Irwyn,  i.  14, 15  ;  iv.  223  ;  convoys 
Drum  to  De  Irwyn,  iv.  256, 258  ;  Bar- 
bour ai.d  Fordun  on,  14, 15. 

Brummell,  Beau,  iv.  176. 

Brush,  Mr.,  ii.  427. 

Brussels,  W.  I.'s  impressiocs  of,  in  1805, 
i.  153.  , 

Bryant,  William  Cullen  (sec  Letters), 
i.  38,  212;  ii.  261,  376;  i.i.  114,  183, 
189,  264 ;  iv.  46,  48, 92, 307  ,  his  poems 
published  in  America,  ii;  471,  472, 
and,  under  W.  I.'s  auspices,  in  Lon- 
don, 475,  477  ,  iii.  102-111  ,  W.  I. 
and  G.  C.  Verplanck  on  his  poetry, 
ii.  473,  476  ,  his  Discourse  on  W.  I, 
i.  212  ;  iv.  103. 

Brydges,  Sir  8.  E.  ii.  231 

Brydone,  Patrick,  on  the  Ear  of  Dionys- 
ius,  i.  108. 

Buchanan,  James,  Secretary  of  State,  iii. 
386. 

Buckingham,  Duke  of,  duel  of,  with  the 
Duke  of  Bedford,  ii.  79. 

Buckthorne  ai  d  his  friei.ds,  ii.  50,  55, 
164, 178,  186, 191,  205,  209,  212. 

Buffalo,  iv.  158. 

Bull  fights  in  Spain,  ii.  320  ;  iv.  201. 

Bull,  Ole,  his  performances,  iv.  110. 

Bulwer,  Sir  E.  L.,  and  International 
Copyright,  iv.  90. 

Bulwer,'llenry  Lytton,  British  Minister 
to  Spain,  1843,  iii.  312,  390. 

Burker  Hill,  battle  of,  iv.  146,  205,  206. 

Burgoyne,  General,  his  Expedit.on,  iv. 
209. 

Burr,  Colonel  Aaron,  W.  I.  coursel  for, 
J.  190;  his  trial  for  1  igh  troison, 
190-203  ;  his  demeanor,  192  ;  W.  I.'s 
opinion  of,  91, 192,  195,  199,  201,  202, 
203  ;  his  fascinat  on  of  manner,  199  ; 
his  treatment  during  his  trial,  202, 
203  ,  bis  duel  with  Hamilton,  91 ;  his 
love  of  mystery,  iv.  301. 

Burritt,  Rev.  Blackleath,  relieved,  when 
a  prisoner,  by  the  kindness  of  Wil- 
liam Irving,  sen.,  i.  21. 

Burrows,  Lieutenant  William,  i.  299. 

Burton,  Mr.,  American  Consul  in  Spain, 
i;.  307.  342. 

Burying  place  of  the  Irving  family,  iii. 
230. 

Butler,  Captain,  ii.  133,  134, 1C5. 

Byron,  Augusta,  ii.  463. 

Byron,  Lady,  Lord  Byron's  overtures  to, 
ii.  184 ;  his  breaeh  with,  i.  375. 

Vol.  IV.— 18*  (27) 


Bvron,  Sir  John  the  little,  il.  468. 
Byron,  Lord,  i.  299  ;  ii.  35  ;  iv.  70,  71,  72, 

161; 
Autobiographical  Memoirs  of,  destroy- 
ed, ii.  68,  69,  195,  196. 
Bvnm,  Lady,  and,  i.  196,  375. 
death  of,  ii.*195. 

Don  Juan,  by,  i.  374  ;  ii.  182,  201. 
handwriting  of,  ii.  125. 
Lamb,  Lady  Caroline,  and,  i.  461 ;  ii. 

195. 
Medwin's  Recollections  of,  ii.  1S2,  184, 

231. 
Moore's  Letters  and  Journals  of,  ii 

208,  375,  420. 
Murray,  John,  letter  to,  by,  i.  374. 
Newstead  Abbey  and,  ii.  462,  463,  467 

468. 
poetic  moods  of,  iv.  230. 
Sketch  Book  and,  ii.  25,  26. 
West's  p.cture.  and  description  of,  ii. 

231 ,  iii.  167. 


C 


Cabell,  Joseph  C,  in  Italy  in  1805,  i.  127, 
128, 129, 133  ,  travels  with  W.  I.,  128, 
138,  140,  145  ;  his  marriage,  190. 
Cadiar,  Spain,  ii.  300. 
Cadiz,  described,  ii.  307. 
Caii.es,  Gec.rge,  as  a  translator,  i.  219. 
Calderon,  character  of  the  works  of,  ii. 
237  ,  his  El  Embozado,  iv.  70,  71,  72. 
Caldiron  de  la  Barca,  Don  Angel,  iii. 

135,  312. 
Calderon  de  la  Barca,  Madame,  iii.  312  ; 

iv.  127 
Calhoun,  John  C,  opposes  the  confirma- 
tion of  Van  Buren,  ii.  480  ;  and  Nulli- 
fication, iii.  49  ;  Secretary  of  State, 
388. 
Calista,  Mrs.  Siddons  in,  in  1805,  i.  159. 
Cam'  ria  steamer,  iii.  393. 
Cambridge,  Duchess  of,  iii.  201. 
Camp  meeting,  iv.  307. 
Campbell,  Mr.,  a  brother  of  the  poet,  i. 

252. 
Campbell,  Thomas  . 
America  his  prospective  home,  i.  364, 

371. 
biographies  of,  i.  203,  204,  299,  334. 
Irving,  Peter,  and,  i.  303. 
Irving,  Washington,  and,  i.  334,  378, 

380,  387. 
likeness  of,  iv.  322. 
Moore,  Thomas,  and,  ii.  421. 
on  Irvine's  style,  ni.  21. 
Poems  of,  l.  230,  253,  335. 
Specimens  of  British  Poets,  by,  i.  305, 
334,  344,  364,  365. 
Campbell,  Mrs.  Thomas,  on  the  poetry 
of  Scott,  Byron,  and  Campbell,  i.  334, 
335. 
Camporeale,  Princess,  W.  I.  has  letters 

to,  i.  123. 
Caniof,  General,  ii.  135, 136. 
Canning,  George,  on  W.  I.'s  writings,  ii. 
38. 


418 


INDEX. 


Cant  respecting  "modest  merit,"  ii.  221. 
Caracol,  the,  W.  I.  and  J.  N.  Hall  oc- 
cupy, ii.  S43,  34*,  350,  360. 
Carey  to  Lea  publish  Tales  of  the  Al- 

hambra,  iii.  17. 
Carey,  Lea  to  Blanchard  publish  W.  I.'a 

works,  iii.  67,  68,  90,114,186,395,396. 
Carey,  Lea  &  Carey    publish    W.    l.'s 

works,  ii.  279,  280,  336,  337,  345,  370, 

374,391,420,451;  i:i.  71. 
Carhampton,  Lord,  ii.  127. 
Carini,  Prince  and  Princess,  iii.  327. 
Carolina,  Spain,  ii.  287. 
Carlsruhe  described,  ii.  111. 
Carlyle,  Mrs.  Thomas,  at  Rogers's  break- 
fast, iv.  221. 
Carter,  Nathaniel  H.,  anecdote  of   the 

Sketch  Book  told  by,  i.  124. 
Carthagena,  insurrection  in,  in  1844  ,  iii. 

321. 
Caruthers,  Dr.,  iv.  327. 
Carvill,  Messrs.,  buy  the  first  American 

edition  of  the  Life  of  Columbus,  ii. 

279,  280,  355,  390. 
Cary,  Mr.,  iii.  401. 
Casa  de  Cera,  W.  I.  and  J.   N.    Hall's 

residence  at,  ii.  360. 
Cass,    Lewis,  Minister  to  France,  1842, 

iii.  205,  206,  207,  2C9. 
Cassel,  ii.  162. 

Cassio,  Charles  Kemble  as,  iv.  241. 
Cassilis,  the  seat  of  Andrew  Kennedy, 

q.  v.    See  Kennedy,  Andrew. 
Castahos,  General,  guardian  of  Isabella 

III.,  iii.  296,  297,  298. 
Castile,  sunburnt  wastes  of,  ii.  288. 
Carfle  of  the  Von  Tiomps,  i.  333,  345  ; 

n.  58. 
Catalani,  ii.  199  ,  surpassed,  116. 
Catalans  of  Spain,  iii.  259,  299,  300,  358. 
Catalonia,  described,  iii.  259,  358. 
Catania,  W.  I.  at,  in  1S04,  i.  114. 
Catawba  coin  try,  iv.  226. 
Cathedral,  effect  of  a  saunter  about  a,  ii. 

330,  331. 
Catherine  and  Petruchio,  iv.  242  ;  scene 

from,  by  Leslie,  ii.  445,  485. 
Cato,  \V.  I.  performs  part  of  Juba  in,  i. 

29. 
Caton,  Miss.,  ii.  230. 
CatskUl  Mountains,  iii.  27,  28  ;  iv.  332. 
Catskill,  village  of,  Iii.  53 
Caugbnawaga,  in  1803,  i.  58. 
Cavendish  family,  portraits  of,  ii.  462. 
Cayenne,  Lafayette's  estate  in,  iv.  298. 
Cayuga  Lake,  iv  23,  52,  158. 
Cecil,  a  novel!,  iv.  310. 
Celebritv,  penalties  of,  iv.  284. 
Cerillo,  TV.  I.  and  J.  N.  Hall  occupy,  ii. 

340,  342. 
Cervantes,  Life  of,  suegested  toW.  I.  by 

Murray,  ii.  230  ,  Life  of,  by  Lockhart, 

347. 
Chamber!a;n,  Mrs.,  character  and  death 

of.  iv.  277. 
Chambers's  Cyclopaedia  on  the  Sketch 

Book,  i.  418. 
Champla*n,  Lake,  iv.  157. 
Champs  Elysees,  Paris,  iii.  373, 


Charles  II.,  or  The  Merry  Monarch,  ii. 
171,  172,  184,  194  ;  W.  I.  assists  J. 
H.  Payne  in,  171,  172, 175, 194. 

Charles  V.,  Emperor  of  Germany,  iv.  93, 
183 ;  and  his  army,  legend  of,  ii.  119; 
grant  of,  to  the  Puigai  s,  392. 

Charles  X.,  early  popularity  of,  ii.  214; 
flight  of,  from  Paris,  433;  invades 
Spain,  iii.  232. 

Charlotte,  Princess,  "W.  I.  on  her  death, 
i.  391. 

Charlottesville,  Virginia,  iii.  51 ,  Univer- 
sity of,  iv.  167. 

Charybdis  compared  with  Hellgate,  New 
York,  i.  105. 

Chaslelleux,  Marquis  of,  Travels  of,  iv. 
227. 

Chateaubriand,  on  the  Alhambra,  ii. 
393,  394. 

Chatham,  Earl  of,  his  American  policy, 
iv.  24C. 

Chatterton  Hill,  battle  of,  iv.  197. 

Chaucer  and  the  Canterbury  Pilgrims, 
i.  297. 

Chauncey,  Commodore,  in  command  at 
Sackitt's  Harbor,  in  1814,  i.  315,  320. 

Chepstow  Castle  described,  i.  336. 

Chess,  W.  I.  fond  of,  iv.  ISO. 

Chicago,  prosperity  of,  iii.  89. 

Chi co  el  Zogovby,  ii.  382. 

Chico  Key,  ii.  £95. 

Chicm  Zee,  ii.  18. 

Childe,  the,  i.  e.  Newton  Stuart,  ii.  28. 

Children,  W.  I.'s  love  of,  ii.  379  ;  iv.  Ill, 
114,  115,  197,  323. 

Children's  party,  iv.  111. 

Cholera  in  London  in  1831-'2,  ii.  479,  485  ; 
in  United  States  in  1832,  iii.  31. 

Christ  Church,  Tarrytown,  "W.  I.  war- 
den of,  iv.  311,  324*  325. 

Christian  Review  on  Irving's  Works,  iv. 
56. 

Christmas,  iv.  265  ;  festivities  at  Barl- 
borough  Hall,  ii.  466  ;  in  the  Sketch 
Book,  i.  447. 

Christus  Consolator  of  Aug.  Scheffer, 
iv.  45. 

Chronicle  of  Count  Fernan  Gonzalez,  iv. 
15. 

Chronicle  of  Fernando  the  Saint,  iv.  15. 

Chronicle  of  the  Coi  quest  of  Granada, 
by  Fray  Antonio  Agapida,  composi- 
tion and  publicaton  of,  opinions  on, 
etc.,  ii.  253,  310, 325,  337,  341,  £44,  348, 
349,  361,  362,  365,  366,  £69,  374,  375, 
376,  388,  396,  401, 433  ,  iii.  265,  267  ;  iv. 
14,  03,  64,  188  ;  sold  to  Murray  for 
2,000  guineas,  ii.  362. 

Chronicle  of  the  Dynasty  of  the  Ommi- 
ades  in  Spain,  iv.  15. 

Chronicles  of  the  Moorsh  domination  in 
Spain  projected,  ii.  373  ;  iv.  14-19,  6-" 

Chronicle  of  Pelayo,  iv.  15, 17. 

Chronicles,  Spanish  MS.  of,  iv.  278. 

Church's  Heart  of  the  Andes,  iv.  288. 

Church,  Edward,  runs  steamboats  on  the 
Garonne  and  Seine,  ii.  14;  Peter  Ir- 
ving takes  an  interest  in  the  invest- 
ment, 15. 


INDEX. 


419 


Cincinnati,  W.  I.  nt,  in  1832,  iii.  35. 
Clarendon  Hotel,  New  York,  iv.  262. 
Clari,  bv  J.  E.  Payne,  ii.  170. 
Clark,  Lou:s  Gay  lord,  editor  Knicker- 
bocker 20  years,  iv.  173 ;  visits  Sun- 
nyside,  iii.  158  ;  iv.  103. 
Clavigero,  Abbe,  iii.  141. 
Clay,  Henry : 
International  Copyright  Law  and,  iii. 

151. 
Irving  and,  i.  272, 392  ;  iii.  179  ;  iv.  305. 
Secretary  of  State,  iii.  23. 
Senator  of  United  States,  i.  272  ;  iii.  24. 
Van  Buret's  confirmation  opposed  by, 
ii.  480,  481. 
Clemencia,  Don  D'ego,  ii.  366. 
Cloudesley.    See  Godwin,  William. 
Clymer,   Mr.,    at  Washington,  in  1811, 

i.  269. 
Coale,  the  bookseller,  i.  261. 
Cockburn,  John,  travels  with  W.  I.,  ii. 

153,  154. 
Cockloft  Hall,  of  Salmagundi,  resort  of 
W.  I.  and  his  frieuds,  l.  166, 167  ;  ii. 
307,  n. 
Cockloft,  Pindar,  of  Salmagundi,  i.  177, 

195. 
Cockloft,  Miss,  of  Salmagundi,  i.  210. 
Cogswell,  Joseph  G.,  iii.  133, 134,  136,138; 
iv.  119,  271,  289  ;   W.  I.  desires  his 
services  as  Secretary  of  Legation  at 
Madrid,  iii.  180  ;  appointed  Librarian 
of  the  Astor  Library,  1S1 ;  iv.  244. 
Colburn,  Henry,  offers  a  thousand  guin- 
eas for  Bracebridge  Hall,  ii.  76. 
Colburn  and  Bentley  buy  The  Alham- 

bra,  ii.  4S5. 
Cold  Spring,  ii.  427  ;  iii.  402. 
Coleridge,  Samuel  Taylor,  on  A  Chroni- 
cle of  Granada,  ii.  376,  388. 
Coles,  Benjamin  W.,  ii.  74. 
Columbia,  South  Carolina,  iii.  44. 
Columbia  College,  Dr.  Kemp,  Professor 
of   Natural    History    in,   dies,   and 
James  Renwiek  takes  his  chair,  i. 
2S6 ;  Charles  King,  President  of,  iii. 
99. 
Columbia  River,  importance  of,  iii.  382. 
Columbiad  of  Barlow  criticised,  i.  270. 
Colombo,  Colomo,  Colon,  or  Columbus, 

Christopher,  iv.  96-98. 
Columbus,  Christopher  : 
Aliedo's  Cosmography  annotated  by, 

ii.  327. 
appearance  of,  iv.  94. 
birth  of,  ii.  335. 
birthplace  of,  ii.  354. 
chained,  iv.  129. 
Isabella  and,  ii.  2S8. 
Medea  of  Seneca  and,  iv.  247,  248. 
names  of,  iv.  96-98. 
portraits  of,  ii.  354  ;  iv.  92-98. 
Robertson,  Dr.,  on,  ii.  313. 
voyage,  the  first  of,  ii.  339. 
Columbus,  Christopher,  Life  and  Voya- 
ges of,  composition  and  publication 
of,op:nionson,  etc.,  247-26S,  279-2S1, 
2S2,  312,  313,  314,  315,  316,  325,  326, 
336,  337,  338,  341,  343,  347,  350,  351, 


352,  353,  354,  355,  363,  365,  366,  368, 
370,  374,  375,  377,  378,  386,  390,  397, 
417  ;   iii.  137,  263,  264,  265,  368,  396  ; 
iv.  4S,  50,  1S9,  321 ;   sold  to  Murray 
fur  2,000  guineas,  ii.  268;  Abridgment 
of,  ii.  442,  451 ;  iii.  54,  55,  57  ;  iv.  95. 
Columbus,  Christopher,  Vovages  of  the 
Companions  of,  ii.  437,  442,  447,  451 ; 
iii.  396  ;  iv.  50 ;  sold  to  Murray  for 
500  guineas,  ii.  447. 
Columbus,  Christopher,  Voyages  of,  by 
Navarette.    See  Navarette  Don  Mar- 
tin Fernandez  de. 
Columbus,  Don  Diego,  portraits  of,  ii. 

264 ;  iv.  93. 
Columbus,  Fernando,  his  Life  of  Chris- 
topher Columbus,  ii.  312  ;  iv  94,  90, 
248  ;  library  left  by,  ii.  350. 
Commerce,  expansions  of,  iii.  122. 
Commercial  life  in  America,  ii.  233. 
Commercial  speculations,  unfortunate 

ii.  368. 
Compeigne,  iv.  27. 

Composition,  habits  of,  iv.  319,  320,  321. 
Compton,  Mr.,  ii.  198. 
Concha,  General,  treachery  of,  iii.  238  , 

escapes,  240. 
Coney  Island,  King  of,  iii.  403. 
Congress  of  the  United  States  of  1810-'ll, 
i.  260,  263,  271,  272,  273  ;  nullification 
in.  in  1833,  iii.  49,50. 
Congreve,  William,  his  Mourning  Bride, 

iv.  271. 
Connecticut  River,  beauty  of,  iii.  29. 
Conquest  of   Granada.     See  Chronicle 

of  the  Conquest  of  Granada. 
Conquest  of  Mexico,    History  of.      See 
Mexico,  History  of  the  Conquest  of. 
Constable,  Archibald,  i.  382,  384,  386  : 
failure  of,  ii.  249. 
Sketch  Book  and,  i.  442,  443. 
Washington,  Life  of,  suggested  by,  ii. 
238  ;  iv.  292. 
Constance,  part  of,   read  by  Mrs.   Sid- 
dons,  ii.  82. 
Constance,    Mademoiselle,  ii.  293,  304, 

326,  331. 
Constant,  Anthonv,  iii.  117,  171. 
Contented  Man,  A,  iv.  186. 
Cook,  Capt.  James,  his  voyages,  iv.  208. 
Cooke,  Georsre  Frederick  : 
acting  of,  i7 158,  277,  278  ;  iv.  242. 
Cooper,  Thomas  A,  and,  i.  278. 
Dunlap's  Life  of,  i.  293. 
Falstaffby,  iv.  242. 
habits  of,  i.  279  ;  iv.  241,  242. 
Iaeo  by,  iv.  241. 

Kemble,  John,  and,  i.  278  ;  iv.  242. 
Leslie's  portrait  of,  i.  405. 
Shylock  by,  i.  279. 
social  character  of,  iv.  116. 
Sully's  portraits  of,  i.  279. 
Cooiidge,  Mr.,  visits  Lord  Byron,  ii  26. 
Cooper,  Mr.,  of  Covent  Garden,  ii.  483. 
Cooper,  James  Feniraore,  iii.  67,  264  ;  iv. 
307.    See  Letters  : 
Irving  on,  ii.  261 ;  iv.  313. 
Meeting  in  honor  of  the  memory  ofsi v. 
103.         '  ' 


420 


INDEX. 


Spy  of,  published  in  England,  ii.  173. 
Tucket-man,  fi.  T.,  on,  iv.  313. 
Cooper,  Thomas  A.  : 
acting  of,  i.  157, 158, 196,  278,  344.    See 

Letters. 
address  for,  by  Irving,  i.'204. 
bemfit  of,  1833,  iii.  08. 
Cooke,  O.  F.,  and,  i.  278. 
Fairlie,  Mary,  marr.ed  lo,  i.  80. 
Hamlet  by,  i.  67. 
Macbeth  by,  i.  278,  343  ;  iii.  26. 
Petruchio   by,  iv.  242. 
Poetical  epistle  by,  i.  197. 
Cooper,  Judge  William,  father  of  the 

novelist,  couplet  by,  i.  51. 
Copp,  in  Charles  II.,  by  Fawcett,  ii.  179, 

194. 
Copyright  Bill,  Verplanck's,  in  1830,  ii. 

449 
Copyright  of  foreigners  in  Great  Britain, 

iv.  89. 
Copvright  Law,   International,  iv.   89  ; 

W.  I.  on,  ill.  149-151. 
Cordova,  ii.  2S4,  287  ,  sketch  of  W.  L 

consulting  the  archives  of,  by  Wil- 

kie,  iv.  141, 143. 
Corkran,  Mr.,  as  Druggett,  ii.  141. 
Corlier's  Hook,  IN'ew  York,  iv.  241. 
Cornwallis  at  Yorktown,  iv.  227. 
Correspondence.    See  Letters. 
Correspondence,  vexatiois  of  a  miscel- 
laneous, ii.  319,  320  ;  iv  257. 
Cortes,  the  Spa;  ish,  in  1842,  tt  seq.  iii. 

241, 251, 294, 298, 310, 316,  318, 376,  383. 
Cottage  near  Seville,  W  I.   and  J.  N. 

Hall  occupy,  ii.  325-340. 
Cotton  mills  on  the  Patapsco,  iv.  167. 
Country  life,  charms  of,  ii.  329,  330. 
Court  of  the  Lions  in  the  Alhambra,  ii. 

291,  383,  3S6 
Covent  Garden  Theatre,  ii.  374,  483 ;  iv. 

241. 
Cowley,  Lady,  at  Paris,  1842,  iii.  209. 
Cowley,  Lord,  British   Ambassador  at 

Paris,  i  i.  208. 
Coxe,  the  barber,  his  1-imentations  over 

the  fate  of  Louis  XVI.,  i.  30. 
Cozzene,  Fred.  S.,  iv.  264,  300. 
Crabbe,  George,  habits  of  composition 

of,  iv.  320. 
Cradoek,  Mr.,  ii.  435.   » 
Craigville,  seat  of  Mr.  Ames,  iv.  307. 
Cramond,  Henry,  "a  young  American," 

at  Wilkie's,  ii.  445. 
Crane,  Ichabod.  the  original  of,  iv.  81. 
Crayon,  Geofi'rey,  when  first  assumed, 

i.  416. 
Crayon  Miscellany,  publication  of,  opin- 
ions on,  etc.   iii.  65-74,   76,  77,  229; 

iv.  51 ;  terms  for  with   Murray,  iii. 

71 ;  with  Carey,  Lea  &  Blanchard, 

65,  71. 
Creek  Indians,  ii!.  40. 
Creighton,  Rev.  Dr.,  friend  and  pastor  ol 

W.  I.,  iv.  265,  325. 329,  330. 
Creole  Village,  the,  iii.  99  ;  iv.  1S6. 
Crevellente,  S.erra  of,  ii.  410. 
Crimea,  war  in  the,  iv.  180. 
Croaker,  and  Croaker  &  Co.,  ii.  75. 


Crystal  Palace,  in  New  York,  1855,  lv 

159,   163  ;  Authors  and  Bookseller' 

festival  at,  in  1855,  iv.  196. 
Cunningham,  Allan,   solicits  an  article 

from  W.  I.,  ii.  362, 365  ;  described  by 

W.  I.,  365. 
Curate  of  Los  Palacio3  on  Columbus,  iL 

312,  335. 
Curtis,  George  William,  on  "W.  I.,iv. 

331. 
Cutts,  Mrs.,  sister  of  Mrs.  Madison,  i. 

263. 
Cyrus  in  Babylon.    See  Rossini. 

D 

D ,  Mrs.,  iv.  127. 

L> ,  Mrs.,  of  Philadelphia,  i.  1S2. 

D'Alborgo,  Mr.,  iii.  327. 

Dana,  Richard  II. ,  reviews  the  Sketch 
Book,  i.  421 ;  contributor  to  Gra- 
ham's Magazine,  iii.  264 

Dandy,  a  horse  of  W.  I.'s,  iv.  76, 136. 

Dan  el  and  Belshazzar,  by  W.  Allston,  i. 
362,  399. 

Dante,  effects  of  his  great  poem,  ii.  294. 

Danube,  scenery  of  the,  ii.  115,  117,  121, 
122,  123. 

D'Arblay,  Madame,  on  Boswell  and 
Johnson,  iv.  58. 

Dailey,  Felix  O.  C,  his  illustrations  to 
Knickerbocker,  iv.  242. 

Dario,  Valley  of  the,  ii.  393. 

Dartmouth,  United  States  Frigate,  at 
Seville,  ii.  371. 

Davidson,  Lucretia,  Miss  Sedgwick's 
b:osrraphy  of,  iii.  157. 

Davidson,  Mrs.  Margaret  M.,  i.  353. 

Davidson,  Margaret  M.,  W.  I.'s  biogra- 
phy of,  iii.  157. 

Davies,  Scrope.    See  Kenney,  James. 

Davis,  Charles  Augustus  (Major  Jack 
Downing),  iii.  183,  189  ;  iv.  109, 114, 
126,  318  ;  First  Locomotive  by,  114  , 
reminiscences  of  W.  I.  by,  114-117, 
198.     See  Letters. 

Davis,  Gil,  ii'.  403. 

Davy,  Lady  S'r  Humphry,  her  conver- 
sation, i.  380. 

Dawson,  Mrs.  Flora,  iv.  214. 

De  Bry,  Theodore,  his  America,  iv.  94. 

De  Camp,  Miss,  marries  Charles  Kern- 
We,  i.  162. 

De  Irwin,  William.     See  Irwyn. 

De  Rochambeau's  Memoirs,  iv.  227. 

De  Runiford,  Countess,  i.  379. 

De  Witt,  Rev.  Dr.,  iv.  198. 

Dean,  Tommy,  his  shop,  iii.  256. 

Dearman,  now  Irvington,  iv.  173. 

Decatur,  Commodore  Stephen  : 
captured  bvthe  British,  i.  326. 
death  of,  i.  458. 
expedition  of,  against  Algiers,  i.  327, 

328,  329. 
Irving  and,  i.  306,  327,408,  458. 
Mazouda,  captured  by,  i. 329. 

Decline  and  Fall.    See  Gibbon,  Edward. 

Deep  Dene  Album,  W.  I.'s  contribu- 
tion to,  ii.  86. 


INDEX. 


421 


Delafield,  Mr.,  i.  453. 

Delatield,  Dr.,  visits  W.  I.  professionally, 
iv.  74. 

Delaware  River,  iii.  1C9. 

Delaware  and  Hudson  Canal,  iii.  169. 

Democrats  in  1S07  and  1811,  i.  186,  268. 

Dei.dy,  W.  C,  his  Philosophy  of  Mys- 
tery, i  v.  36. 

Dennie,  Joseph,  W.  I.'s  portrait  of,  i. 
183. 

Dent,  Captain,  of  Philadelphia,  i.  102, 
104,  105. 

Dentists,  benediction  on,  iii.  341. 

Derbyshire,  W.  I.  and  Peter  Irving 
travel  in,  in  1816,  i.  354,  356. 

Desdemo  >a,  Mis.  Siddonsas,  iv.  241. 

Despefla  Berros,  ii.  2S6. 

Devey,  Frederick  Nicholls, iv.  88. 

Devil's  Bridae,  Switzerland,  iii.  375. 

Devonslvre,  Duke  of,  ii.  451,  461,  462. 

Dewey,  Rev.  Orviile,  iii.  115. 

Dick,  Gentleman.   See  Gentleman  Dick. 

Dickens,  Charles 
America  visited  by,  in  1842,  iii.   182, 

1S4,  200  ;  iv.  221. 
Irving  and,  iii.  164, 165, 183,  187. 
speeches  of,  iii.  185. 

Dickinson,  the  artist,  W.  I.  pleased  with, 
i.  244. 

Dictionary  of  Authors,  by  S.  Austin 
Allibone,  iv.  235. 

Dinner  invitations,  sincerity  of,  ii.  196, 
197. 

D'onysius,  Ear  of,  described,  i.  108-112. 

Diplomacy  should  be  honest,  iii.  308. 

D'lsrael',  Isaac,  described,  i.  373,  454. 

Dix,  William  G.,  visits  Sunnyside,  Nov. 
22,  1859  ;  iv.  324,  325. 

Dobbs's  Ferry,  iii.  95, 171,  246. 

Doctor  Thorne,  by  A.  Trollope,  iv.  314. 

Dodge,  Richard,  surveyor  on  the  Mo- 
fiawk,  i.  38  ;  establishes  himself  t  ear 
Albany.  39  ;  removes  to  Johnstown, 
39;  marries  Ann  Irvine;  i.  38. 

Dodge,  Mrs.  Richard,  sister  of  "W.  I., 
her  sickness  and  death,  i.  214,  217. 

Dolgorouki.  Prince  Demetri  Ivanovitch, 
of  the  Russian  embassy,  an  intimate 
friend  of  W.  I.,  ii.  269,'272;  referred 
to,  310,  323,  379,  385,  437,  43S,  439  ; 
ionis  W.  I.  at  Seville,  377  ;  with  W. 
I.  vis'ts  the  Alhambra,  3S0,  381 ; 
leaves  the  Alhambra,  382  ;  described 
by  W.  I.  444.     See  Letters. 

Dolores,  W.  I.'s  attendant  in  the  Al- 
hambra, ii.  383,  385,  394, 395  ;  iii.  218. 

Domenichino,  paintings  of,  i.  135. 

Domestic  Annuls  of  the  Revo'.ution,  iv. 
277. 

Don  Carlos,  by  Lord  John  Russell,  ii.  183. 

Don  Carlos  of  Spain,  his  struggle  for 
the  crown,  iii.  232-235,  351 ;  the  wife 
of.  ii.  269. 

Don  Franci-co,  uncle  of  Isabella  III  of 
Spain,  M:  297,  298,  S20. 

Don  Juan.     See  Lord  Byron. 

Don  Juan,  a  Spectral  Research,  iii.  148. 

Don  Pelayo,  Chronicles  of,  ii.372,  374; 
MS.  of,  iv.  278. 


Don  Roderick,  composition  of,  etc.,  ii 
270, 363,  367,  370,  371,  372,  374,  3S9. 

Don  Quixote,  ii.  412 ;  iv.  60,  171. 
exploits  of,  ii.286. 
Leslie's,  iv  189. 
Newton's,  ii.  185. 

Don,  Sir  George,  Governor  of  Gibraltar, 
ii.  306. 

Donegal,  Lady,  on  Moore's  Loves  of  the 
Angels,  ii.  181. 

Douaniers,  the  sergeant  of,  ii.  299,  300, 
301. 

D'Oubril,  Mr..  Russian  Mimeter,  ii.  267, 
269,270,  272,274,  278,  292,  304,  323, 
331 ;  iii.  251. 

D'Oubril,  Madame,  ii.  274,  275,  277,  278, 
279,291,292,  304,  323,  331,  379,  395; 
iii.  252,  253. 

Douce  Davie,  a  horse  of  J.  P.  Kennedy's, 
iv.  169,  170, 175. 

Dove,  anglit  g  on  the,  iv.  31. 

Downii  g,  Major  Jack,  iv.  109, 114, 126. 

Drake,  Mrs.,  her  acting,  iii.  35. 

Drake,  Joseph  Rodman,  poetical  promiso 
and  death  of,  ii.  75. 

Dresden,  described. ii.  127  ;  W.  I.'s  resi- 
dence in,  in  1822-'3, 127-160,  iv.  213, 
216,  217,  218;  gallery,  iv.  219. 

Drum  conveyed  by  Bruce  to  Irving,  iv. 
256,  258. 

Drum,  Irvines  of.    See  Irvines. 

Drury  Lane  Theatre,  ti.  375,  416,  483. 

Dryburgh  Abbey,  Scott  and  Irving  visit 
in  1817,  i.  383. 

Du  Platte,  lodge  of  the  Duke  of  Nassau 
at,  ii.  96. 

Duchess  of  Duras,  ii.  216  ;  iv.  224. 

Duchess  de  Gor,  charitable  deeds  of,  lil. 
217. 

Duchess  of  S.  and  her  dinnerparty,  ii. 
197. 

Ducks,  difficulty  of  raising,  iv.  250. 

Duer,  John,  bis  fpcech  at  tie  Irving  din- 
ner in  1832.  ii.  492;  entertains  Law- 
rence the  painter,  iv.  172. 

Dufferii',  Lord,  his  Letters  from  High 
Latitudes,  iv.  273. 

Duke  de  Baileu.  See  Ca6tanoe,  General. 

Duke  of  Duras,  ii.  215  ;  iv.  224. 

Duke  de  Gor  in  the  Alhambra,  ii.  384; 
described.  392,394,  S95  ;  hosp  tality 
of,  409  ;  W.  I.  meets  at  Madrid  in 
1842,  iii.  218. 

Duke  of  Orleans.    Rre  Lou's  Philippe. 

Duke  of  Orleans  k'lled,  iii.  222. 

Duke  of  San  Lorenzo,  iii.  217. 

Dumas,  Alexandre,  bis  novels,  iv.  139. 

Dui  glison,  Dr.  Roblcy,  his  Medical  Dic- 
tionary, iv.  260. 

Dunlap,  William,  his  biography  of  G.  F. 
Cooke,  i.  293. 

Dupont's  engraving  of  Scheffer's  Chris- 
tus  Consolator,  iv.  45. 

Durafrd,  landscape  by,  iv.  66. 

Durazzo,  Mademoiselle,  ii  209. 

Durnz7o,  Msrq"d'S  of,  his  euiogium  on 
Columbus,  iv.  94. 

Dumstein,  Castle  of,  described,  ii.  121. 

"  Dusky  Davie."  See  Longworth,  David. 


422 


INDEX. 


Dutch,  scions  of  the,  in  New  York,  of- 
fended at  Knickerbocker's  History, 
i.  239. 

Dutch  courtship,  by  Leslie,  i.  3fi3,  367. 

Dutch  F. reside,  by  Leslie,  ii.  1S6. 

Dutchman,  tread  and  features  of  the,  i. 
153. 

Duyekinck,  Evert  A.,  on  Salmagundi,  i. 
211. 

Duycki nek's,  Evert  and  G.  L.,  Cyclopae- 
dia of  American  Literature,  quota- 
tion from,  respecting  Washington 
Allston,  i.  130-131. 

Dyde's,  in  Park  Row,  New  York,  a  fash- 
ionable resort  about  1800,  i.  167. 


E 

Ear  of  Dionysius  described,  i.  108-112. 

Er»rly  American  Society,  iv.  207. 

Edgbaston  Castle,  ii.  58,  60. 

Edinburgh  described,  i.  378. 

Edinburgh  Monthly  Magazine,  i.  382. 

Edinburgh  Review,  Sketch  Book  re- 
viewed in,  i.  219. 

Edward  I.,  Robert  Bruce  escapes  from 
the  court  of,  i. -14,  15. 

Edward  111.,  Court  of,  iii.  201. 

Egremont,  Lord,  i.  402, 403  ;  ii.  223  ;  buys 
Leslie's  Sancho,  194  ;  hospitality  of, 
375. 

El  Embozado  of  Calderon,  iv.  70,  71. 

Elba,  W.  I.  passes  in  1804,  i.  95. 

Elehe,  ii.  410. 

Election  in  New  York  city  in  1S05,  i. 
186-188. 

Electors  of  Baden,  ii.  111. 

Elijah,  by  Allston,  i.  398. 

Elizabeth,  Princess  of  France,  her  pris- 
on, ii.  35. 

Elizabeth,  Queen,  customs  of  her  reign, 
ii.  135  ;  iii.  100,  101. 

Elk  Ridge,  scenery  of,  iv.  150. 

Ellicott's  Mills,  the  seat  of  Edward  Gray 
at,  visited  by  W.  I.,  iv.  149,  150,  166, 
170,  210,  283. 

Ellislon  and  Kean,  ii.  181. 

Ellsworth,  Commissioner,  iii.  34,  40,  41. 

E.vira,  mountains  of,  ii.  288,  383. 

Elwyn's  dinner,  ii.  200. 

Embozado,  Ei,  drama  of,  projected,  ii.  232. 

Enemy,  an  anonymous,  ii.  228,  238,  240, 
253,  282. 

Enna,  General,  iii.  2S9. 

E  chanted  Sold  er,  Story  of,  ii.  365. 

England,  scenery  in,  ii.  154. 

English,  Talma  on  the  character  of,  ii. 
179. 

Ericsson,  caloric  ship,  iv.  131,  132. 

Erinveine,  ancient  mode  of  spelling  Ir- 
ving, i.  14. 

Erivine,  ancient  mode  of  spelling  Irving, 
i.  14. 

Erwin,  Hugh,  of  Nashville,  iv.  305. 

Erwyn,  John,  1438,  ancestor  of  W.  I.,  i. 
17. 

Erwyn e,  ancient  mode  of  spelling  Ir- 
ving, i.  14  ;  John  off,  of  1438,  ances- 
tor of  W.  I.,  17. 


Eryyein,  ancient  mode  of  spelling  Irving, 

i.  14. 
Escacena,  his  likeness  of  W.  L,  ii.  379. 
Escurial,  visit  to,  ii.  269. 
Espagi.e,  Count  de,  described,  iii.  350  ; 

murdered,  352. 
Espartero,  Duke  of  Victoria,  Regent  of 

Spain,  iii.  219,  220,  221,  223,  224,  231, 

336,  240,  241,  242,  243,  256,  260,  262, 

278,  279,  280,  281,  285,  290  ;  driven 

from  Spain,  292,  294,  296,  316,  321, 

372,-  his  duchess,  iii.  280. 
Espiroz,  General,  iii.  283,  289,  296. 
Essays,  American,  W.  I.  employed  on, 

ii.  242,   243,   244,  245,  246,  247,  249  ; 

abandoned,  245,  249,  252. 
Eugenie,  Empress  of  France,  W.  I.'b  re- 
collections of,  iii.  322,  323  ;  iv.   133, 

138,  139. 
Europe,  politics  in,  in  1830,  ii.  453. 
European  Magazine,  ii.  231. 
Evening  Post.    See  New  York  Evening 

Post. 
Everett,  Alexander  H.     See  Letters: 
America,  by,  ii.  336. 
cosmopolitan  character  of,  ii.  308. 
Irving  asked   by  to  translate  Navar- 

ette's  Voyages  of  Columbus,  ii.  247. 
Irving's  Chronicle  of  Granada,  Life  of 

Columbus,  etc.,  praised  by,  ii.  281, 

315,  401. 
Minioter  to  Madrid,  ii.  245,  247,  250  ; 

superseded,  396,  400. 
Everett,  Mrs.  Alexander  H.,  ii.  309,  315. 
Everett,  Edward  : 

Minister  to  England,  iii.  194,  196. 

"  Never  at  a  loss,"  iii.  201. 

Tour  on  the  Prairies  reviewed  by,  iii. 

66,  67. 
Everett,  Louisa,  li.  309,  315. 
Evergreen,   Anthony,  of  Salmagundi,  i. 

176. 

F 

F ,  Mademoiselle,  in  the  tableau  of 

the  Sibyl,  ii.  276. 
Faed,  Thomas,  his  picture  of  Scott  and 

his  Contemporaries,  iv.  322. 
"  Fair  laughs  the  Morn,"  iv.  295. 
Fairfax,  Lord,  of  Virginia,  iv.  164. 
Fairlie,  Miss  Mary,  i.  180,  183,  186,  189, 

307  ;  iii.  24,  25,  187  ;  marries  Thomas 

A.  Cooper,  i.  180,  307.    See  Letters. 
Fairman,  Mr.,  ii.  28. 
Falstaff,  Sir  John,   ii.  3S7 ;  by  Leslie,  i. 

407  ;  ii.  415,  422  ;  G.  F.  Cooke  as,  iv. 

242 
Familv  connection,  importance  of  main- 
taining, ii.  222,  237,  238. 
Fancy  ball  in  New  York  in  1848,  iv.  35. 
Farmington,  Rev.  Mr.,  iv.  329. 
Farrard,  Midshipman,  ii.  355. 
Fashionable  life,  reflections  on,  ii.  159, 

275,  329,  333. 
Father  Luke,  i.  e.  Willis,  the  painter,  iL 

28. 
Fawcett   as  Copp,  in  Charles  II.,  ii.  194. 
Fay,  Theodore  S.,  co-editor  of  the  New 

York  Mirror,  iii.  19. 


INDEX. 


423 


Federalists  defeated  fn  180T,  1. 186 ;  vio- 
lence of,  in  1811,  268. 

Felt,  David,  presides  at  the  Booksellers 
and  Authors'  Festival,  1837,  iii.  115. 

Felton,  President  C.  C.,onW.  I.'s  Life 
of  Wash.i%ton,  iv.  283  ;  his  remin- 
iscences of  W.  I.,  i:i.  182. 

Female  Beauty,  ii.  332;  goodness,  i.  201. 

Fennel],  the  actor,  i.  157. 

Ferdinand  Vil.,  King  of  Spam,  iii.  222, 
232,  233,  237,  336,  351,  3C9. 

Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  marriage  of,  iii. 
346  ;  conquest  of  Granada  by,  ii. 
290;  painting  under,  iv.  96. 

Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  by  Prescott,  iii. 
135,  139. 

Ferna  do  el  Santo,  MS.  of,  iv.  278. 

Fillmore,  Millard,  iv.  126,  132, 139,  140, 
141,  157  ;  character  of,  73,  128  ;  his 
tour  South  in  1854,  169,  170. 

Fillmore,  Mrs.  Millard,  death  of,  iv.  142, 
169. 

Finai.cial  crisis  in  United  States  in  1S37, 
iii.  121  ;  in  1857,  iv.  239,  240. 

Fish,  Jonathan,  a  schoolmaster  of  W. 
I.'s,  i.  36. 

Fitzgerald,  Lord  Edward,  Moore's  Life 
of,  ii.  421,  422. 

Florence,  iv.  223. 

Florian,  the  Gonsalvo  of  Cordova  of,  ii. 
389. 

Flowers,  iii.  278,  279. 

Fiy,  The,  an  American  periodical,  ii. 
218 

Fogy,  Old,  iv.  108, 113. 

Fonda  de  la  Reyna,  ii.  315. 

Forbes,  Colonel  Jos.,  communicates  in- 
formation respecting  the  Irvines  of 
Drum,  i.  16,  n. 

Forbes,  Ladies  Adeline  and  Caroline,  ii. 
182. 

Force,  Peter,  C.  Lanman's  letter  to,  iv. 
228. 

Ford,  Judge,  of  Oswecratchie,  i.  55. 

Ford,  Sir  Francis,  i.  355. 

Ford,  R;chard,  on  W.  I.'s  disposition, 
iv.  76. 

Fordun,  John  de,  his  account  of  Robert 
Bruce,  i.  15. 

Forest  of  America,  feeli  ngs  prod  uced  by, 
ii.  331. 

Forkel  family  near  Sunnyside,  iii.  230. 

Fornarina,  tableau  of  the,  ii.  296. 

Forster,  John,  his  life  of  Goldsmith,  iv. 
53,  58. 

Fort  Gibson,  iii.  39,  42,  43,  64,  65. 

Fort  Jefferson,  iii.  37. 

Foster,  Mrs.  and  family,  resident  at 
Dresden  in  1822,  society  at  her  man- 
sion, ii.  127,  133,  135,  137,  140,  141, 
147,  148,  149,  150, 151,  159 ;  iv.  213- 
220. 

Foster,    Mi?s    Emily,     afterward    Mrs. 
Fuller,  ii.  137  ;  iv.  213-220.    See  Let- 
ters 
character  of,  ii.  128,  140. 
conversation  of,  ii.  ISO,  155. 
Herodias  by,  ii.  129  ;  iv.  219. 
Irving's  lines  on  birthday  of,  ii.  152. 


Foster,  Flora,  ii.  140, 148, 150  ;  iv.  213. 
Foxes,  family  of,  spiritual  mediums,  iv. 

307. 
Foy,  Mr.,  a  favorite  of  W.  I.,  ii.  186, 1S7  ; 

takes  W.  I.'s  portrait,  183. 
France  : 
agriculture  in,  in  1805,  i.  153. 
Empire  predicted  in,  by  \V.  I.,  iv.  100. 
Emperor  of.  See  Louis  Napoleon. 
Empress  of.    See  Eugenie. 
King  of.    See  Louis  Philippe, 
nobility  of,  iv.  425. 
Queen  of,  iii.  207,  208,  362. 
Revolution  of  1789  in,  i.  76  ;  iv.  292 

of  1852  in,  iv.  99. 
Spain  and,  iii.  241-244,  304  ,  iv.  96. 
Francesco,  Don,  iii.  365. 
Frankfort   described,   ii.   102,  103,    104, 

105  ;  fair  of,  96,  103  ;  iv.  25. 
Frankbn,  Dr.  Benjamin,  i.  87  ;   King  of 

Bavaria's  remin  scences  of,  150  ;  Tal- 
ma recollects,  179. 
Fray    Antonio  Agapida,   iii.   272.      See 

Chronicle  of  the  Conquest  of  Gra- 
nada 
Frederick,  Prir.cc  of  Saxony,  ii.  132, 135, 

139. 
Fredericksburg,  Virg;nia,  iii.  51. 
French  fort  at  the  confluence  of  the  Os- 

wesatchie   and  St.  Lawrence,  i.  55  ; 

iv.  158. 
French  language,   characteristics  of,  ii. 

235. 
French  Revolutions.    See  France. 
French,  Talma  on  the  character  of  the, 

ii.  179. 
Frenchman,  air  of  the,  i.  153. 
Frescati  visited  by  W.  I   in  1805,  i.  134. 
"  Friend,  A."    See  Enemy,  anonymous. 
Frothingham,  Richard,  jr.,  excellence  of 

his  S'ege  of  Boston,  iv  146. 
Funck,  Captain,  iii.  72,  73,  82,  86,  361. 
Fuller,  Mrs.  Emily,  ii.  128  ,  iv.  213-220. 

See  Foster,  Miss  Emily. 
Fuller,  Henry,  iv.  217. 
Fur  trade  with    the    Indians  in   New 

York,  i.  39. 
Furman,  John,  brother-in-law  of  John 

T.  Irving,  i.  46.    See  Letters. 


Gahriac,  Madam,  at  Geneva,  in  1804,  i. 
89. 

Galignani  and  Didot  engage  W.  I.  to 
edit  the  British  Classics,  ii.  188,  189, 
190  ;  undertaking  abandoned,  204  ; 
"  evil  genius  "  at,  ii.  218,  228. 

Gall,  Dr.,  described,  Ii.  182. 

Gallatin,  Albert,  Secretary  of  the  Treas- 
ury, i.  286  ;  his  attention  to  "W.  I.,  ii. 
19  ,   in  old  aee,  iii.  168. 

Gallatin,  Mrs.  Albert,  i.  2S6,  291. 

Galleco,  Don  Juan  Nicasio,  and  a  Span- 
ish version  of  the  Life  ol  Columbus, 
ii.  397. 

Gallicia,  insurrection  in,  in  1846,  iii.  386, 
387. 


424 


IM>EX. 


Gardner,  Lieutenant,  of  the  U.  S.  Ship 

President,  i.  liL 
Garonne  and  Seine,    E.   Church   runs 

•  steamboats  on,  ii.  15. 
Gates  and  Schuyler,  iv.  209. 
Ger.eralife,  palace   of  the,  ii.   288,   £91, 

393. 
Genet,  Edmond  Charles,  reception  of,  in 

New  York,  iv.  254. 
Ger.oa,  W.  I.  at,  in  1804,  i.  87,  ES,  89,  92, 

93. 
Gentleman  D:ek,  a  horse  of  W.  I.'s,  iv. 

76,  136,   176,  190,  192  ;    in  disgrace, 

176,  200,  310  ;  sold,  192  ;  h:s  charac- 
ter, 192,  206. 
"  Geoifrey    Crayon,  Gent.,"   -when  first 

as-umed,  i.  416  ;   Note  Book  of,   iii. 

153  ;  his  "  Sceptre,"  ii.  466. 
George,  Prince  of  Wales,  as  Eeger.t,  i. 

332. 
George  IV.,  coronation  of,  ii  52. 
Georges  (Cadoudal),  shot  in  1804,  i.  65. 
Germai  y  : 
customs  of,  ii.  92,  95. 
Emperor  of,  imprisons  King  Richard 

Legendary  Tales  of  projected  by  Ir- 

vii  g,  ii.  166,  178.    * 
literature  of,  ii.  237. 
potentates,  ii.  111. 
Pri   cess  of,  i>.  379. 
towi  s  of,  ii.  104. 

Gessler,  Mr.,  Russian  Consul  General, 
travels  with  W.  I.  in  Spain  in  1828, 
ii.  284,  285,  2S6,  301,  303,  304,  307,  in 
love,  344. 

Ghost  in  Hamlet,  iv.  276. 

Ghost  stories,  iv.  36. 

Giant  Mountains,  ii.  153. 

Gibraltar  described,  ii.  300,  £07. 

Gibbon,  Lieutenant,  an  agreeable  com- 
panion, i.  261  ;  perishes  in  the  Rich- 
mond theatre,  265. 

Gibbon,  Edward,  Decline  and  Fall  of,  ii. 
351  ;  iv.  321. 

Gifford,  William,  editor  of  the  Quarterly 
Review,,  ii.  450  ;  described,  i.  454, 
455  .  Cooper's  Spy  referred  to,  ii.  74  ; 
prefers  Bracebridge  Hall  to  the 
Sketch  Book,  77. 

Gil  Bbs  1  y  Stuart  Newton,  ii.  375  ;  ard 
the  Archbishop  of  Granada,  iv.  19, 
54,  284. 

Giles,  Will'am  B.,  his  6peech  on  the 
Bank  of  the  United  States,  i.  271,  272. 

Ginger,  a  dog  of  Sunnyside,  iv.  136. 

Gingerbread,  Giles,  iv."  38. 

Giovanni  Sbogarro,  translated  and  pub- 
lished by  Peter  Irving,  ii.  14. 

Glasgow,  public  dinner  offered  to  W.  I. 
at,  in  1S42,  iii.  201. 

Godev,  Louis  A.,  complimentary  dinner 
to,  in  1S55,  iv.  199. 

Godfrey  affair,  iii.  125. 

Godfrey,  Mr.,  iv.  102. 

Godwin,  William,  his  Clnndeslev,  ii.  418, 
420  ;  on  the  Sketch  Bcok,  i."422,  435. 

Goeller's  Thucydides,  iv.  44. 

Goldfineb,  youiig  Jefferson  as,  iv.  253. 


Goldsmith,  Oliver  : 
Abridgments  of  his  Histories,  ii.  351, 
Bryant  on,  i.  212. 
Forster's  Life  of,  iv.  53. 
living's   Life  of,    ii.  51,  191,  204  ,  iii. 

156, 157  ;  iv.  61,  64,  321. 
writ  ngs  of,  iv.  56. 

Gomares,  tl  e,  ii.  289  ;  lower  of  the,  £83. 

Con:-aivo  of  Cordova,  his  desc(  ndant  in 
1829,  ii.  403  ,  by  Florian,  £89. 

Goodrich,  Mr.,  ii   183. 

Gorham,  Mr.,  of  Boston,  at  Paris  in  1805, 
i.  153. 

Gowanus  in  1832,  ii.  489. 

Gowen,  Beniamin,  an  accomplished  ser- 
vant, iii.  2i5,  216,  217,  218  ;  his  de- 
cliie  and  fall,  281. 

Gracies,  the,  of  New  York,  i.  296,  302. 

Graham's  Magazine,  attack  on  W.  I.  in, 
iii.  264-273. 

Granada,  iii.  349  ;  W.  L'  s  visits  to,  in 
1S28-9,  ii.  287,  288,  £05,  379,  380,  392, 
£93:  Archbishop  of  and  Gil  Bias, 
iv.  19,  54,  284. 

Granada,  Conquest  of.  See  Chronicle 
of  the  Conquest  of  Grat.ada. 

Granard,  Lady,  ii.  1S2, 189. 

Granger,  Francif ,  iii.  185  ;  iv.  110. 

Grant.-,  the  two,  ii.  436. 

Grattan,  Thorras  Culler,  ii.  182. 

Gratz,  .jr.,  of  l'h  larie'pl  ia,  i.  172. 

Gray,  Mibf,  of  Baltimore,  iv.  160,  182, 
211,  283.     ' 

Gray,  Edward,  of  Baltimore,  iv.  160, 
167;  W.  I.  visits,  in  1853,124,125, 
135, 149  ,  illness  of,  174,  175  ,  recov- 
ery of,  180  ;  death  of,  210  ,  character 
of,  210. 

Gray,  Thomas,  his  Bard  quoted,  iv.  295. 

Great  Britain,  war  between  United 
States  and,  in  1812,  i.  284  ;  feeling 
toward  the  United  Stales  in,  in 
1846,  iii.  389,390. 

"  Greatl  eart,  Captain,"  iii.  29. 

Green  Bay  Speculation,  iii.  87.  89,  £32. 

Greeley,  lloiace,  iv.  244. 

Greenburg,  New  York,  iii.  101. 

Greet. e,  George  W.,  on  Goldsmith  and 
Irving,  iv.  56. 

Greenpoii  t,  iii.  41. 

Greenway  Court,  Virginia,  in  1853,  iv. 
164, 165,  166. 

Grcsset,  M.,  bis  Ver-vert,  ii.  183. 

Grim  ell,  Mrs.  Charlotte  I.,  iv.  23,  52, 158. 
See  Letters. 

Grinnell,  Fanny,  iv.  28. 

Grinnell,  Irvine,  iv.  2S  ;  character  of. 
256,  258.    See  Letters. 

Grinnell,  Miss  Julia  I.,  iv.  28  ,  her  tour 
in  Europe  in  1858,  251. 

Grinneil,  Mcses  H.,  i  i.  248,  249,  250, 
£44;  iv.  86,  106,  109,  175,  195,  240, 
248  ;  as  an  architect,  iii.  £12  ;  bis 
hospitality,  313.     See  Letters. 

Gris;,  iv.  34.,  as  Norma,  iii.  G06  :  iv.  76  ; 
as  Lucretia  Borgia,  76 ;  as  Sim  ra- 
mide  ai  d  Bosii  a,  181. 

Griswold,  Rev.  Rufus  W.,  iii.  264-273  , 
iv.  307. 


INDEX. 


425 


Grosvenor,  Lord,  ii.  485. 

Guadalquivir  River,  ii.  287,  320,  S21. 

Guadayra  River,  ii.  322,  326. 

Guard  an  Insurance  Company,  iii.  82. 

Guestier  family  of  Bordeaux,  ii.  241,  242, 
244  ;  iii.  215,  303. 

Gurowski,  Count  Adam,  aids  in  procur- 
ing the  letter  of  W.  I.  to  Prince 
Dolgorouki,  ii.  273. 

Guy  Livingstone,  a  novel,  iv.  314 

n 

H ,  Mrs.,  bright,  intelligent,  and  ami- 
able, iv.  135. 

H ,  Miss,  a  spiritual  face,  iv.  173. 

Hacks  tt,  James  II.,  Nimrod  Wildfire 
by,  ii.  449  ;  his  Notes  and  Criticisms 
on  Snakspeare,  iv.  39.    See  Letters. 

Haggerry,  Mr.,  of  Virginia,  iii.  344. 

Hall,  Captain,  of  the  U.  8  Ship  Presi- 
ded, i.  111,113,114,115,  117. 

Hali,  John  Nal.ier,  a  companion  of  W.  I. 
in  and  near  Seville,  ii.  315,  325  ;  his 
ill  health,  328,  340  ,  death  an  1  char- 
acter of,  described  by  W.  I.,  356, 357, 
358,  359  ;  his  spirit  vainly  invoked 
by  W.  I ,  359,  360  ;  iv.  324. 

Halla-n,  Henrv,  iii.  200  ;  or  the  Young 
Italian,  ii.  213  ;  deserted,  i.  462  ;  re- 
ceives gold  medal  from  Royal  Soci- 
ety of  Literature,  ii.  429. 

Halleck,  Fitz  Gpeene,  iii.  115,  183  ;  and 
Cioaker,  ii.  74,  75;  resides  with  J. 
J.  Astor,  iii.  61,  63,  78  ;  Rogers  on 
his  Poems,  116. 

Hamilton,  Alexander,  W.  I.  on  his  duel 
with  Burr,  i.  91  ;  h>s  policy  a^d  tal- 
ents admired  by  W.  1.,  91  ;  W.  I.'s 
character  of,  iv.  282. 

Hamilto  ',  Alexander,  jr.,  Secretary  of 
Legation,  Madrid,  iii.  181,  182,  188, 
220,  221,  251,  281,  283,  286,  290,  303, 
305,  311 ;  returns  to  America,  333, 
339, 342,  344,  345. 

Hamilto  i,  Andrew,  and  the  Broken 
Heart,  i.  430. 

Hamilton,  Governor  James,  and  nullifi- 
cation, iii.  44. 

Hamlet,  iv.  313  ;  the  ghost  in,  276;  Talma 
in,  ii.  43  ;  at  Vienna,  iv.  40. 

Hammida,  the  Algerine  Rais,  killed,  i. 
329,  349. 

Hammond,  Abijah,  iii.  248. 

Hampton,  Mr.,  'iv.  286. 

Hams  of  Maryland,  iv.  143,  145. 

Handaside,  Seth,  a  letter  of,  i.  235. 

Hand-shaking  in  America,  iv.  127. 

Hannah  of  Sunnyside,  iv.  78. 

Happy  New  Year,  iv.  185. 

Hardw'ck  Castle,  i\  461. 

Hargrnve,  Mr.,  as  Pierre,  i.  157. 

Harper's  Perry,  iv.  150, 163. 

Harper  &  Brother,  iv.  70  ;  buy  the 
Dutchman's  F  reside,  ii.  449  ;  buy 
Mo  >re's  Byron,  420  ;  Family  Library 
of,  iii  156  ;   iv.  59,  62. 

Harper,  Robert  Goodloe,  at  "Washing- 
ton in  1811,  i.  269. 


Harrison,  John,  publisher  Oi  the  "Week- 
ly Museum,  i.  35. 

Harrison,  President  "William  Henry, 
suuden  death  of,  iii.  178. 

Harrow,  Byron  at,  ii.  462. 

Harks  Mountains  described,  ii.  162. 

Harvey,  Admiral,  and  Lady  Louisa,  ii. 
180. 

Harvey,  George,  architect  of  Sunnyside 
cottase,  iii.  79,  80,  395. 

Havre  in"1842,  iii.  203. 

Hawthorne,  Nathaniel,  iv.  So  ;  W.  I.'s 
opii.ion  of  his  works,  133. 

Hayne,  Governor  Robert  Y.,  preparing 
for  war,  iii.  48. 

Hay  ward,  Mr.,  i.  e.  J.  H.  Payne,  ii.  170. 

Heard,  Colonel  J.  T.,  of  Massachusetts, 
iv.  294. 

Heart  of  the  Andes,  by  Church,  iv.  2S8. 

Heidelberg  described,  ii.  109. 

Hellgate,  J.  J.  Astor's  residence  at,  iii. 
78,  79,  81,  S3,  85  ;  compared  with 
Charybdis,  i.  105. 

Hempen  House,  ii.  379. 

Henderson,  Josiah  A.,  W.  I.'s  school- 
master, i.  36  ;  takes  orders,  36. 

Henrietta,  the  nurse,  iv.  27,  29. 

Henry,  Dr.,  a  fellow  traveller  with  W.  I. 
in  1S04,  his  eccentricities,  i.  C9,  70, 
72  ;  a  useful  companion,  73,  74,  78,  79, 
80,  82. 

Herbert,  William  nenry,  iii.  99,  n. 

Hernando  del  Pulgar,  ii.  392. 

Herorlias,  painted  by  Emily  Foster,  ii. 
129  ;  tv.  219. 

Herodotus,  the  Dutch,  ii.  492. 

Herrera,  Tordesillas  Ant  in  o  de,  on  Co- 
lumbus, ii.  312  ;  o  i  Mexio,  iii.  138. 

Hess;an  Journals  of  the  American  Rev- 
olution, iv.  199. 

Hicks  fam  ly,  hospitality  of,  ii.  180. 

Hicks,  Thomas,  the  artist,  iv.  300. 

Highgate,  Colonel  Aspinwali's  residence 
at,  ii.  379. 

Highlands  of  the  Hudson,  i.  39-43,  463  ; 
iv.  173. 

Hillhouse,  Mr.,  ii.  ISO. 

Historical  Society  of  New  York.  See 
New  York  Historical  Soc'ety. 

History  of  the  Age  of  Discoveries,  by 
Peschel,  iv.  247,  248. 

History  of  a  Parrot,  by  Gresset,  ii.  183. 

Hobhouse,  Sir  John  Cam,  and  Byron,  ii. 
232. 

ITockheimer,  village  of,  ii.  98. 

Hodgkinson,  his  acting,  iv.  242  ;  as  Po- 
truchio,  242. 

Hoffman,  Mr.,  of  Baltimore,  Irving's 
host  in  London,  ii.  70. 

Hoffmann,  Miss  Ann,  visits  Ogrlens- 
burg  in  1803,  i.  4S  :  marries  Charles 
Nicholas,  250. 

Hoffman,  Charles  Fonro,  i.  £49,  252 ; 
loses  his  leg,  388,  389.  391. 

Hoffman,  George,  i.  249,  252. 

Hoffman,  Josiah  Oedcn,  W.  T.  studies 
law  with,  i.  44,  168  ;  with  W.  I.  and 
party  visits  Ogdensburg,  etc.,  1803, 
48-61  ;  Indian  name  of,  59  ;  examines 


426 


INDEX. 


students,  173 ;  "W.  I.'s  affection  for 

his  family,  91,  150.    See  Letters. 
Hoffman,  Mrs.  Josiah  Ogden,  i.  45,  48- 

59.     &ee  Letters. 
Hoftman,  Julia,  i.  249,  251. 
Huflmai!,  Mary,  marries  Philip  Rhine- 

lander,  i.  250,  £91. 
Hoffman  Matilda,  tfie  object  ofW.  I.'s 

atlections,  i.  221,  4S1  ;  character  and 

death  of,  221-227,  228  ;   iv.  216  ,   her 

memory  cherished  by  W.  L,  1.  229, 

230,  231. 
Hoffman,  Murray,  W.  I.  on,  i.  391. 
Hoffman,  Ogden,  Iiis  eloquence,  i.  44  ;  his 

success  at  the  bar,  i.  390. 
"  Hokey  Pokey,"  i.  e.  John  Randolph,  ii. 

441. 
Holcroft,  Thomas,  his  Road  to  Buin,  iv. 

253. 
Holland,  W.  I.'s  impressions  of,  in  1805, 

i.  154,  155 ;  cleanliness  of,  153. 
Holland,  Edwin  C,  i.  299. 
Holland  House,  W.  I.  breakfasts  at,  ii. 

79  ;  entertainments  at,  181  ;  iv.  105, 

220,  221. 
Holland,  Lady,  iv.  178  ;  Luttrell  on,  ii. 

18L 
Holland,   Lord,   ii.  456  ;  iv.  178  ;  W.  I. 

a  guest  of,  ii.  47,  51,  79. 
Holloway,  Mrs.,  W.  I.  lodges  with,  iv. 

309. 
Holmes,  Oliver  Wendell,  visits  Sunny- 
side,   iv.    264  ;   his  Autocrat  of  the 

Breakfast  Table,  264,  270,  272. 
Holy  Isle,  W.  I.  visits  in  1817,  i.  377. 
Holv  Week  at  Rome,  i.  138  ,  at  Seville, 

ii.  372. 
"  Home,  Sweet  Home,"  popularity  and 

profits  of,  ii.  40. 
Home   Book  of  the  Picturesque,  W.  I. 

contributes  to,  i.  40. 
Home  Journal,  iv.  83,  309,  315. 
Homes  of  American  Authors,  iv.  91, 147, 

149. 
Homoeonathy,  iv.  170,  179. 
Hone,  Philip,  Mayor  of  New  York,  iii. 

188;  his  enterprise,  169.  See  Letters. 
Honesdale,  Pennsylvania,  described,  iii. 

168. 
Hoole,  John,  his  translation  of  the  Or- 
lando Furioso  read  by  W.  I.  when  a 

boy,  i.  31. 
Hope,  Thomas,  W.  I.  a  guest  of,  ii.  83, 

84,  87. 
Hope,  Hon.  Mrs.  Thomas,  described  by 

W.  I.,  ii.  84. 
Horseback   excursions,   iv.   21,   22,  175, 

190,  316. 
Horsefhoe  Robinson,  iv.  135, 136, 160, 170. 
Hosack,  Dr.,  of  New  York,  iv.  289. 
Hosack,  David,  M.  D.,  i.  372. 
Hotel  de  Darmstadt,  ii.  100. 
House  with   the  Seven  Gables,  the,  iv. 

85. 
Hudibras,  iv.  17L 
Hudson,  Hendrik,  iv.  318. 
Hudson  River,  scenery  of,  etc.,  i.  38,40, 

43,  21S,  2S6,  463  ;  iii.  169,  361 ;  iv.  107, 

161, 168,  173,  208,  219,  303,  304,  330. 


Hudson's  Bay  Company  and  the  Oregon 

question,  iii.  382. 
Hueston,    Mr.,    of  the   Knickerbocker 

Gallery,  iv.  173. 
Hull,  Jones,  and  Decatur,  public  dinner 

to,  292,  295. 
Humboldt,  Baron  Alexander  Von,  in  so- 
ciety, iv.  285  ;  letter  and  death  of, 

284. 
Humboldt,  William  Von,  W.  I.  meets, 

in  1805,  i.  1S6. 
Hume,  David,  his  History  of  England, 

ii.  351. 
Hunting.     See  Saxony,  King  of. 
Hurst,   Robinson  &  Co.,  failure  of,  ii. 

249. 
Huskisson,  William,  accident  to,  ii.  436. 


Iago,  George  Frederick  Cooke  as.  iv. 
241. 

Ichabod  Crane,  iv.  47. 

Idlewild,  home  of  N.  P.  Willis,  W.  I. 
visits,  in  1854,  iv.  174. 

Independent,  the  New  York.  See  New 
York  Independent. 

Independent  Columbian  Review,  i.  298. 

Indian  Antiquities,  iii.  35. 

Indians  in  New  York,  fur  trade  with,  i. 
39. 

Infanta,  wife  of  Don  Carlos,  ii.  269. 

Ingersoll,  Joseph  R.,  at  Washington  in 
1811,  i.  269. 

Inglis,  Sir  Robert  Harry,  ii.  424 ;  iii.  199, 
201 ;  character  of,  iv.  92. 

Initials,  The,  a  novel,  iv.  310. 

International  copyright,  iv.  89. 

Invocation  to  Health,  by  Mrs.  Rodman, 
i.  126. 

Iriarte,  General,  iii.  289. 

Irish  widower,  ii.  183. 

Irvin,  ancient  mode  of  spelling  Irving,  i. 
14. 

Irvine  of  Drum,  i.  14. 

Irvine,  Dr.  Christopher,  on  the  primi- 
tive orthography  of  the  name  Ir- 
ving, i.  14 ;  on  the  Irvines  of  Drum, 
16. 

Irvine,  Isabella,  grandmother  of  Sir  Ro- 
bert Strange,  i.  17. 

Irvine,  Sir  William,  or  Irwyn,  William 
De,  q.  v. 

Irvines  of  Bonshaw,  an  early  branch  of 
the  family,  i.  14. 

Irvines  of  Drum,  antiquity  of  the,  and 
residence  of  the  family  of  the,  i.  14, 
16. 

Irvines  of  Orkney  of  the  Irvines  of 
Drum,  i.  16. 

Irving  &  Smith,  firm  of,  i.  220,  232,  233. 

Irving  House,  New  York,  W.  I.  visits, 
in  1853,  iv.  163. 

Irving  Literary  Union  of  New  York,  iv. 
117,  118. 

Irving  of  Bonshaw,  the  ancestor  of  W. 
I.,  shelters  Bruce  in  his  adversity,  i. 
14 ;  iv.  223. 


INDEX. 


427 


Irving  family,  genealogy,  ancient  branch-  I 
es,  and  residences  of,  i.  13-18  ;  iv.  222,  I 
223,    258 ;    motto    of,    iii.   205,   206 ;  | 
Amer.cau    branch,  place  of   sepul- 
tuie  of,  iv.  160,  161. 

Irving  Am:,  sister  of  W.  I.,  birtli  of,  i. 
13  ;  marriage  of,  to  Richard  Dodge, 
1788,  38  ;  death  of,  1808,  iv.  277. 

Irving,  Cat  her  ne,  sifter  of  W.  I.,  birth 
of,  i.  13  ;  joins  the  Episcopal  Church, 
25  ;  marries  Daniel  Paris,  39  ;  death 
of  her  daughter,  ii.  65.     See  Letters. 

Irving,  Ebenezer,  brother  of  W.  I.,  birth 
of,  i.  13  ;  character  of,  iii.  156  ;  refer- 
ences to,  i.  13,  241,  257,  341,  348,  357, 
392,  394,  395,  412-414,  415,  447,  448  ; 
ii.  232,  256,  279,  280,  281,  336,  337, 
341,  361,  382,  442,  445  n.,  470  ;  iii.  29. 
57.  58,  59,  119,  128,  129,  131,  156,  172, 
208,  246  ;  iv.  201, 222.     See  Letters. 

Irving,  Edgar,  U.  8.  Navy,  son  of  Eben- 
ezer lrvii  g,  visits  the  Alhambra, 
1829,  ii.  382.     See  Letters. 

Irving,  Gabriel,  son  of  John  Treat  Ir- 
ving, iii.  82  ,  iv.  68. 

Irving,  Matty,  daughter  of  Pierre  Paris 
Irving,  iv.  195. 

Irving,  Helen.  See  Irving,  Mrs.  Pierre 
Munro. 

Irving,  James,  1560,  ancestor  of  W.  I., 
i.  17. 

Irving,  Judge  John  Treat,  brother  of  "W. 
I.,  birth  of,  i.  13  ;  goes  to  Columbia 
College,  37  ;  joii  s  the  Episcopal 
Church,  25;  studies  theology  and 
then  law,  37,  38  ;  practises  law,  173, 
175  ;  references  to,  25,  31,  46,  235,  447  , 
ii.  16,  17,  243,  397,  417  ;  iii.  51,  55,  73, 
81,  82. 115  ;  iv.  33  :  death  and  charac- 
ter of,  iii.  125, 129. 

Irving,  John  Treat,  jr.,  son  of  the  pre- 
ceding, his  Indian  Sketches,  iii.  69, 
73. 

Irving,  Mr?.  (Julia)  Sanders,  niece-in-law 
of  W.  I.,  iii.  171 ;  iv.  171.  See  Letters. 

Irving,  Magnus,  1608,  the  first  Shapin- 
sha  Irving,  i.  17. 

Irvirg,  Magnus,  grandfather  of  "W.  I.,  i. 
14. 

Irving,  Nelly,  daughter  of  Pierre  Paris 
Irving,  iv.  195. 

Irving,  Oscar,  son  of  "William  Irving, 
iii.  30,  52,  75,  118. 

Irving.  P.  &  Co.,  and  Irvine,  P.  &  E., 
business  career  of,  i.  258,  394,  395, 
399.     See  Irvirg,  "Washington. 

Irving,  Peter,  brother  of  W.  I.,  birth  of, 
i.  13;  goes  to  Columbia  College,  37  ; 
studies  medicine,  37,  38  ;  editor  and 
propr'etor  of  the  Morning  Chroni- 
cle, 47,  176  ;  co-author  of  Knicker- 
bocker's History  of  New  York,  213, 
214  ;  co-translator  with  W.  I.,  i.  219  ; 
ii.  248,  250;  business  career  of.  see 
Irving,  P.  &  Co.  ;  publishes  Gio- 
vanni Sbogarro,  14  ,  his  interest  in 
W.  I.,  i.  256,  257  ;  "W.  I.'s  interest  in 
and  affection  for  him,  357,  392,  395, 
454  ;  ii.  77, 142, 143  ;  iii.  130,  204,  215, 


216,  313  ;  references  to,  i.  166,  167, 
176,  213,  219,  220,  255,  256,  257,  297, 
3C3,  321,  333,  £37,  341,  346,  861,  354, 
£56,  410,  411 ;  ii.  15,  17,  £5,  to,  77, 142 
143,  205,  213,  216,  231,  £40.  £41,  283, 
284,  446,  485  ;  iii.  14,  15,  16,  C8  ;  iv., 
223  ;  rtturi  s  to  New  Yoik,  1836,  iii. 
89,  94,  95,  117  ;  death  End  cl  uracter 
of,  129,  130,  216  ;  grave  of,  ££9,  230. 
See  Letters. 

Irving,  Rev.  Pierre  Paris,  son  of  Eben- 
ezer Irving,  his  early  literary  o says, 
ii.  218;  W.  I.'s  advice  to,  218-222, 
233-238  ;  enters  his  father's  count- 
ing louse,  2£3  ;  his  tour  to  the  Ork- 
neys, 1856,  iv.  £22  ;  references  to,  iii. 
83  ;  iv.  195,  326.     &ee  Letters. 

Irvirg,  Mrs.  Pierre  Monro,  iii.  129,  £55  ; 
iv.  £63,  £07.     See  Letters. 

Irving,  Pierre  Mui  ro,  I  ei  hew  of  "W.  I., 
travels  in  Europe,  1826,  ii.  253,  206, 
£58  ;  arrarees  the  At-toria  MSS.,  iii. 
60,  61,  C2,  C4,  C9,  72,  74,  78,  86,  88  ;  ur- 
gis  the  pullieation  of  a  new  idition 
of  W.  l.'swoiks,  iv.  14, 16  ;  defends 
"W.  I.  against  an  ui  just  attack,  iii. 
264-273  ;  mai  ates  "W.  I.'s  busii  ess 
afiaire,  192.  3£6,  340,  354  ,  )  is  "  ver- 
dict "  on  W.  I.V  Life  of  "Washing- 
ton, iv.  153, 154,  196,  £53  ;  a]  poii  tid 
by  "W.  1.  1  is  bOLrapl.er,  i.  6  ;  un- 
warrantable additions  in  the  London 
edition  of  vol.  iii.  of  this  work,  iii. 
214-2£0  ;  references  to,  83,  179,  192; 
remo\es  to  Sunnvside  and  attei  ds 
"W..I.  in  his  last  ihness,  iv.  2C3-333. 
See  Letters. 

Irvine,  Sanders,  nephew  of  "W.  I.,iv.  171, 
172. 

Irving,  Sarah,  mother  of  "W.  I.,  born  in 
Falmouth,  England,  i.  14  ,  marriage 
and  emigration  to  America,  1763, 
19  ;  kindness  of  toprit-oners  during 
the  Revolution,  20 ;  left  a  widow, 
1S07,  £08  :  reference  to,  iv.  312  ;  death 
of,  1817,  l.  365  ;  iv.  179  ;  character  of, 
i.  24,  25,  74.    See  Letters. 

Irving,  Sarah,  sister  of  W.  I.,  birth  of, 
i.  13  ;  joii  s  the  Episcopal  Cl  urch, 
25  ;  married  to  Henry  "Van  "Wart, 
1806,233.     See  Letters. 

Irving,  Mrs.  Sarah,  n'ece  of  "W.  I.,  iv. 
171,  307,  3C9,  3£6,  327.    See  Letters. 

Irving,  Rev.  Theodore,  nephew  of  W.  I., 
i.  308  ;  travels  in  Europe,  1828-'30,  ii. 
283,  445  ;  with  Henry  Cramond  vis- 
its '  "Wilkie,  445  ;  his  Conquest  of 
Florida,  iii.  69. 

Irving,  Washington.    (For  notices  of 
his  works  see  their  titles  in  the  Gen- 
eral Index.) 
Abbotsford,  visited  by,  i.  38,  3S5. 
Acting,  early,  of,  i.  29,  SO. 
Affect  onate    admiration    entertained 

for,  iv.  234,  286,  309,  332. 
Albuquerque,  Mr.  and  Mre.,   resides 

with,  iii.  379. 
Alhambra,  residence  in,  ii.  285,  381  ; 
iii.  198. 


428 


INDEX, 


Irving,  Washington  : 
Allston, Washington,  and,  i.  129,  405. 
American    Embassy  to  London,  Sec- 
retary of,  ii.  396. 
American  Embassy  to  Spain,  attached 

to,  ii  245,  247,  250. 
Analectic  Magazine  edited  by,  i.  299, 

326. 
ancestry  of,  i.  13-18  ;  iv.  223. 
artistic  tendencies  of,  i.  132. 
As;or   Library,  h  s  age  cy  in,  iv.  35, 

52, 113,  119,  167, 171,  256,  281. 
attack^  literary,  on,  ii.  218  ;  lii.  99,  263. 
Auteuil  v  s  ted  by,  ii.  213. 
author,  honorable  conduct  as  an,  of, 

iii.  268. 
Avignon  visited  by,  i.  75. 
Baltimore  visited  by,  i.  189. 
bar,  admission  to,  of,  i.  173. 
Barcelona  visited  by,  iii.  346. 
B.ir;borough  Hall  v. sited   by,  ii.    460, 

466. 
Barlow,  Joel,  and,  i.  270,  273. 
Berwick  visited  by,  i.  377. 
biographer  of,  P.  M.  Irving  appointed, 

i.  C. 
Birmingham    visited  by,  ii.  437,  448, 

458. 
birth  of,  i.  13,  21. 
Bo'ogn:*,  visited  by,  i.  14. 
books  first  read  by,  i.  23,  31,  32. 
books,  E  glish,  his  plan  for  republica- 
tion of,  i.  369,  373,  396. 
booksellers'   Festival,    1837,    remarks 

at,  iii  115  ;  1855,  attended  by,  iv.  196. 
Bordeaux  visited  by,  i.  68  ;  ii.  241. 
brotherhood,  on,  by,  ii.  14. 
Bryant,  W.  C,  oj,  iii.  Ill,  112;  iv.  47, 

48. 
burial  of,  iv.  328. 
burial  place  of,  iv.  161. 
Burr,  Aaron,  counsel  for,  i.  190. 
Byron,  Lord,  his  MS.  Memoirs  read 

by,  ii.  69. 
Campbell,  Thomas,  and,  i.  334. 
Canada  vis  ted  by,  i.  214,  232. 
career  of,   his  reflections  on,   ii.  220, 

224;  iii.  374,  375. 
Catania  visited  by,  i.  114. 
character  sties  of,  ii.  414  ;  iv.  115,  229, 

231.     5--6  Children. 
Charybdis  visited  by,  i.  105. 
children,  his  fondness  for,  ii.  379  ;  iv. 

Ill,  114,  115,  256,  323. 
conrnercial  career  of,  i.  258,  337,  341, 

342,  346,  347,  353,  354,  356,  357,  361, 

36S,  394,  399  ;  iv.  216. 
communicant  in  the  Episcopal  Church, 

iv.  46 
composition,    his    habits    of,  iv.    253, 

319,  320,  321. 
confirmed  in   the  Episcopal   Church, 

i.  26. 
Congress,  declines  being  a  candidate 

for,  iii.  C4. 
conversation  of,  ii.  200  ;  iv.  268,  269, 

316. 
Cooper,  Thomas  A.,  and,  i.  196,  203. 
correspondence,    voluminous    of,   iii.  i 

333. 


Irving,  Washington  : 

criticism  keenly  felt  by,  ii.  218,  226. 

death  of,  iv.  327. 

Decatur,  Commodore,  and,  i.  328. 

despondency  of,  ii.  165,  228,  229.  230. 
238. 

diary  of,  iv.  213,  216. 

diffidein  e  of,  iii.  35,  36  ;  iv.  114, 127. 

dinner,  diplomatic,  oi,  iii.  315,  3o9, 340. 

Dionysius,  Ear  of,  explored  by,  i.  108- 
112. 

diplomatic  life  of,  ii.  415,  432,  436, 440, 
443,  444,  456,  457.     See  Spain. 

Doctorate  of  Laws  conferred  on,  ii. 
430. 

dramatic  adaptation  by,  ii.  167, 171. 

Dresden  vis. ted  bv,  ii.  127,  160  ;  iv. 
213,  214,  216,  217,  218. 

early  days  of,  i.  13-48  ,  iv.  172,  243, 
254,  265,  307. 

Edinburgh  visited  by,  i.  377. 

editorship  declined  by,  i.  441 ;  ii.  345  ; 
iii.  272,  273. 

election  described  by,  i.  186. 

Escacena,  portrait  by,  of,  ii.  379. 

essays  commenced  by,  ii.  242, 243,  244, 
245,  246,  247,  249. 

Europe,  reminiscences  of,  by,  iii.  252, 
253. 

festivities,  early  of,  i.  164. 

Fo:-d,  Richard,  on,  iv.  76. 

Foy,  portra  t  by,  of,  ii.  183. 

France,  travels  in,  ii'.  203,  303. 

French,  translation  from,  by,  i.  219  ;  ii. 
167,  171. 

Frescati  visited  by,  i.  134. 

Genoa  vis  ted  by,  i.  93. 

Glasgow,  declines  a  public  dinner  at, 
iii.  20. 

Hall,  J.  N.,  and,  ii.  325,  356. 

health  of,  iii.  170,  388,  340,  342,  344, 
See  Illness. 

Hoffman,  Matilda,  and,  i.  221,  228,  231 : 
iv.  216. 

home,  longings  for,  i.  362,  365  ;  ii.  108, 
225,  229,  259,  342,  346,  363,  371,  372, 
388,  390,  402,  427,  456  ;  iii.  209,  211, 
248,  281,  313,  324,  342,  394. 

Honfleur  viBiied  by,  ii.  31. 

Hope,  Thomas,  and,  ii.  83. 

human  nature,  his  views  of,  iii.  343. 

Humboldt,  William  von,  and,  i.  136. 

illness  of,  at  Birmingham,  ii.  57,  59, 
71 ;  in  London,  79,  90,  100  ;  at  Ma- 
drid, iii.  276,  277,  278,  280,  2S7,  291, 
302,  304,  305,  306,  307,  314,  315,  316, 
332,  334,  339.  340,  342,  361  ;  at  Sunny- 
side,  170,  398,  399,  400,  402  ;  iv.  33, 
72,  74,  83,  105,  112,  147,  156,  158,  159, 
174,  179,  209,  238,  239,  241,  242,  252- 
256,  259,  260,  262-276,  27S-2S0,  283- 
291,  293-297,  300-314,  SIS,  324,  326. 
Sre  Health. 

internal iuual  copvright  law,  views  of, 
ri.  149. 

investments  of,  iii.  87,  91,  118,  132, 
152,  245,  332,  340,  354,  397,  401 ;  iv. 
102,  240. 

Irving,  Peter,  interest  in.  of,  i.  394, 
408  ;  ii.  15, 18,  417. 


INDEX. 


429 


Irving.  Washington  : 
Isabella  II.,  yueen  of  Spain,  and,  iii. 

391,  392. 
Jarvis  takes  the  portrait  of,  i,  229,  232. 
Kenible,  Charles,  and,  i.  162. 
Knickerbocker  Magazine,  contributes 

to,  iii.  147. 
lust  sleep,   references  of,  to  his  own, 

iii.  230  :  iv.  140,  161, 162,  255,  273,  291. 
law   studies  of,  i.  37,  38,  44,  169,   173, 

174. 
'    Leslie,  Charles,  and,  i.  405,  406,  407  ; 
-  ii.  55  ;  portrait  of,  by,  28. 
letters,   ai.noyed  by  number  of,  iv.  80, 

208,  317. 
lio  dzing,  disliked  by  iii.  35,  36;    iv. 

114,  127,  295. 
literary  activity  of,  iii.  174, 175. 
literary    aspiralio.  s    of,    i.    392,    393, 

404,  412  ;  ii.  404,  407. 
literary  attempts,  early,  of,  i.  34,  35, 

47. 
literary  labor,  love  of,  iv.  220. 
livelihood,    plans    of,  by,    i.  174,  219, 

222,  242,  387,  392. 
Loire,  the,  vie.ted  by,  ii.  214. 
London  visited  by,  i.  155;  ii.  52,  70; 

iii.  193,  281. 
London  life  of,  i.  453,  461 ;  ii.  80,  88. 
Loigfellow,  H.  W.,  and,  ii.  266. 
losses,  pecuniary,  of,  iii.  56,  77,  82,  87, 

175,  332. 
Louis  Napoleon  (Napoleon   III.)  vis- 
its, iv.  99,  100,  105,  100,  138,  303. 
McLane,  Louis,   and,  ii.  400,  434,  455, 

457. 
Madrid  visited  by,  ii.  273 ;  residence, 

iii.  21G. 
Marseilles  visited  by,  i.  78. 
Martin,  portrait  by,  of,  iv.  S3. 
Mathews,  Charles,  ai:d,  ii.  484. 
mayoralty  of  New  York,  nomination 

for,  proffered  to,  ii'.  126. 
Messina  visited  by,  i.  101. 
Mcze  vi  ited  by,  i.  73. 
Milan  visited  by,  i.  143. 
military  career  of,  i.  312-325. 
Moore,  Thomas,  and,ii.  33,  2C0  ;iv.  17S. 

320. 
Moire,  vindication  of,  by,  176. 
Murray,  John,  and,  ii.  345. 
music,  his  love  of,  iv.  34,  277. 
Naples  visited  by,  i.  124. 
Napoleon  III.    See  Louis  Napoleon, 
navy,  secret aryship  of  the,  proffered 

to,  iii.  126, 127. 
Navy  Board,   chief   clerkship   in,  de- 
clined by,  i.  408,  412. 
New  York,  return  to,  in  1806,  i.  164  ,  in 

1832,  ii.  488  ;  iii.  13,  31 ;  in  1846,  iii. 

3,93. 
Nelson's  fleet  seen  by,  i.  106. 
Newton,  Stuart,  and,  i.  405,  406,  407, 

453  ;  portrait  by,  of,  i.  453  ,  ii.  28. 
Newstead  Abbey  visited  by,  ii.  462, 

467. 
Nice  visited  by,  i.  79. 
Nismes  visited  by,  i.  74. 
notoriety,  dislike  of,  by,  iii.  35,  36  ;  iv. 
114, 127.  205. 


Irving,  Washington : 
oratorship  of,"  ii.  488  ;  iii.  175, 183, 184. 

196,  200,  259. 
Oregon  question,  agency  in,  of,  iii.  380. 
Oxford,  University  of,  confers  degreo 

of  LL,  D.  on,  ii.  43C.: 
Palermo  v  sited  by,  i.  123. 
Palos  visited  by,  ii.  337,  339. 
Pans  visited  by,  i.  144  ;  ii.  18,  164,  216  ; 

iii.  204,  355. 
patriotism  of,  i.  310,  312  ;  iv.  299. 
Paulding,  J.  K.,  and,  ii.  239. 
Payne,  John  Howard,  and,  ii.  167. 
Philadelphia  visited  by,  i.  180,233,  248. 
play  written  by,  i.  35,  36. 
po<try  by,  i.  34,  204  ;  ii.  85, 152. 
polities,  remarks  on,  of,  iii.  120. 
poitra  ts  of,  i.  151,  229,  232  ;  iv.  53  ;  ii. 

28,  135,  1S3,  311,  312,  344,  379  ;  iv.  83, 

143. 
Prague  vHted  by,iv.  213. 
Prescutt,  Win.  H.,ai  d,  iii.  133  ;  iv.  14. 
Preston,   William  C,  and,  i.  368,  394. 

399  ,  iv.  286,  2S8. 
public  dinner  in  New  York  in  1S32  to, 

ii.  486. 
Quarterly  Review  (London),  contrib- 
utes to,  ii.  403,  434. 
religious  training  of,  i.  23,  26. 
Renwick,  James,  and,  i.  336. 
Richmond,  residence  in,  of,  i.  190  ;  iv. 

90. 
R  esen  Gebirge  visited  by,  ii.  153. 
Rome  visited  by,  i.  179. 
Royal  Society  of  Literature  of  London 

gives  medal  to,  ii.  42. 
Royal  Society  of  Madrid,  election  to, 

of,  ii.  365,  369. 
Russell,  Lord  John,  and,  ii.  34. 
Sackett's  Harbor  visited  by,  i.  315. 
Salzburg  vis  ted  by,  iv.  183. 
Saratoga  visited  by,  iv.  106,  124, 125. 
schoolboy  days  of,  i.  28-30,  36. 
Scotland  vis  ted  by,  i.  385. 
Scott,  Sir  Walter,  and,  i.   3S1,  385  ;  ii. 

458. 
seventy  ye^rs  old,  iv.  140, 142, 144. 
seventy-one  years  old,  iv.  171. 
seventy-five  years  old,  iv.  244. 
scventv-six  years  old,  iv.  278. 
sleep  of,  ii.  i34,  200  ;  iv.  249. 
Spain  vis'ted  by,   ii.  284  ;  iii.  16  ;  ap- 
pointed Minister  to,  176  ;  resignation, 

379,  380,  382,  383,  384. 
speculations,  business,  of,  ii.  240,  241, 

368,  417.     See  Investments. 
Snencer,  Lady,  and,  ii.  82. 
Stiel,  Madame  de,  and,  i.  136. 
style  of,  iii.  18,  19,  20,  21,  66  ;  his  own 

reflections  on,  ii.  226,  227,  373,  390  ; 

iv.  60,  65. 
Syracuse  visited  by,  i.  107. 
Termini  visited  by,  i.  119. 
titles,  early,  of,  iii.  29. 
Tompkins,  Governor,  and,  i.  312. 
Tonneins  visited  by,  i.  70. 
Touraine  visited  bv,  iv.  223. 
travels,  early  of,  i.  39,  40,  43,  48-59,  62. 
Van  Buren,  Martin,  and,  ii.  457,  465, 

481,  482. 


430 


INDEX. 


Irving,  "Washington  : 

Vaiiderlyn,  portrait  by,  of,  i.  151. 

Vesuvius  visited  by,  i.  124, 125. 

Virginia  visited  by,  iii.  51. 

Vogel,  portrait  by,  of,  li.  135. 

Washington,  D.  C.,  visited  by,  i.  189, 
259  ;  iii.  45  ;  iv.  126, 141,  145. 

Washington,  George,  blesses,  i.  27. 

Webster,  Daniel,  on  the  diplomatic 
despatches  of,  iii.  251. 

Western  States  visited  by,  iii.  34. 

Wheaton,  Henry,  his  Northmen  re- 
viewed by,  iii.  21. 

Wilkie,  Sir  David,  and,  ii.  295  ;  portrait 
by,  of,  311,  312,  344  ;  iv.  143. 

William  IV.,  King  of  England,  and,  ii. 
457. 

women,  reflections  on,  by,  ii.  275. 

works,  prepares  a  complete  edition 
of,  iii.  395,  396,  397,  399  ;  iv.  14, 16,  31, 
32,  38,  40-65  ;  sale  of,  July,  1848,  to 
December,  1857,  iv.  237  ;  his  opiuion 
of,  319. 

writings  of,  design  of,  ii.  57. 

Zurich  visited  by,  iv.  182. 
Irving,   William,  Drum    conveyed    by 

Bruce  to,  i.  15  ;  iv.  256,  258. 
Irving,  William,  father  of  W.  I.,  his 
genealogy,  i.  13-1S  ,  an  officer  in  a 
British  vessel,  19  ;  marries  Sarah 
Saunders,  19 ;  emigrates  with  his 
wife  to  the  city  of  New  York,  1763, 
and  enters  into  trade,  19  ;  his  suffer- 
ings during  the  Revolution,  and 
kindness  to  prisoners,  20-21  ,  buys  a 
house,  22  ;  his  religious  character, 
23 ;  disapproves  of  dancing,  37  , 
wishes  one  of  his  sons  to  be  a  cler- 
gyman, 38  ;  his  opinion  of  the  law, 
38  ;  his  death  (1807)  and  character, 
208.  See  Letters. 
Irving,  William,  brother  of  W.  I.,  birth 
of,  i.  13  ;  joins  the  Episcopal  Church, 
25  ;  marries  Miss  Paulding,  35_; 
commences  business,  39  ;  J.  K. 
Paulding  lives  with,  35,  175  ;  kind- 
ness of,  to  his  brothers,  62,  357,  392, 
410, 411, 424,  427  ;  co-author  of  Salma- 
gundi, 176,  177,  17S,  195  ;  Member 
of  Congress,  293,  322 ;  delighted  with 
the  Sketch  Book,  410  ;  references 
to,  276,  447  ;  iii.  248  ;  failing  health 
of,  i.  410  ;  ii.  65  ;  death  of,  1821,  66  ; 
J.  K.  Paulding  on  the  character  of, 
67  ;  W.  I.  on  the  character  of,  238  ; 
iv.  312  •  as  a  conversationist,  i.  323. 
Irvington,  N.  Y.,  iv.  173  ;  in  mourning 

for  W.  1.,  iv.  328. 
Irwin,  William  de.    See  Irwyn. 
Irwin,  William  de,   of  Kirkwall,   A.  D. 

1306,  i.  18. 
Irwyn,  ancient  mode  of  spelling  Irving, 

i.  14. 
Irwyn,  Sir  Thomas  de,  of  the  Orkneys, 

i.  18. 
Irwyn,  William  de,  of  Bonshaw,  a.  d. 
1306,  ancestor  of  W.  I.,  secretary  and 
armor  bearer  of  Robert  Bruce,  who 
is  secreted  in  the  house  of  the  elder 
De  Irwin,  i.  14, 15. 


Isabella  the  Catholic  recalls  Columbus, 
ii.  238. 

Isabella  II.,  Queen  of  Spain,  her  mirori- 
ty,  iii.  219,  221,  222,  223,  224,  227,  231, 
233-244,  256,  257,  258,  261,  279,  285, 
288,  292,  293, 294,  295, 296,  297, 298,  299, 
308  ;  her  majority,  310,  316,  317,  318, 
319,  321  ;  reunion  with  her  mother, 
328-331  ;  referred  to,  335,  337 ,  338, 
345,  349,  350,  352,  353, 364,  365.  360, 
368,371,  376,383,  391;  her  parting 
address  to  W.  I.,  392. 

Isturiz,  Prime  Minister  of  Spain,  1S4C, 
iii.  386,  389. 

Italian  Bandit,  story  of  the,  ii.  212,  213  ; 
opera,  W.  l.'s  fondness  for,  i.  143 
(.see  Opera) ;  literature,  character  of, 
ii.  236. 

Italian  Story,  ii.  187,  1S9. 

Italy,  W.  I.'s  admiration  of,  i.  129  ;  his 
gallop  tl trough,  139,  140;  paintings 
and  sculpture  of,  143  ;  travelling  in, 
134  ;  fictitious  trave'e  in,  iv.  258  ; 
war  in,  in  1859,  303,  305. 

Ivanhoe,  Richard  Cceur  dc  Leon  in,  ii. 
122. 


J ,  Mrs.,  iv.  Ill,  290. 

Jackson,  General  Andrew  . 
Bank  of  the  United  States  and,  iii.  21. 
character  of,  ii.  369  ;  iii.  22,  47. 
New  Orleans,  battle  of,  and,  i.  326  ;  ii. 

188,  231. 
Northern  States  visited  by,  1SS3,  iii. 

52. 
nullification  in  South  Carolina  and,  iii. 

21,  45  ;  iv.  286. 
President  of  the  United  States,  ii.  348, 

368, 4S0. 
Randolph,  Lieutenant,  and,  iii.  51. 
removals  from  office  under,  ii.  396, 397, 

400. 
William  IV.'s  message  to,  ii.  444. 
Jackson,  Mary,  described,  i.  275. 
Jacksonville,  III.,  iii.  59. 
Jacob's  Dream,  by  Allston,  i.  399,  404. 
Jaffier,  John  Kemble  in,  in  1805,  i.  157. 
Jacques,  John  Kemble  as,  iv.  273. 
James,  G.  P.  R.,  iii.  161  ;  visits  Sunny- 
side  in  1850,  ii.  73  ;  writes  for  the 
Knickerbocker,  iii.  163. 
Jarvis,  the  painter,  his  success  in  Balti- 
more in  1811,  i.   261,  274,  276;    his 
Diedrich  Knickerbocker,  iv.  242  ;  hi« 
portrait  of  John   Randolph,  i.  275, 
276  ;  his  portrait  of  W.  I.,  i.  229,  232 ; 
iv.  315. 
Jav,  John,  his  Treaty,  iv.  292. 
Jefferson,  Mr.,  acts  in  Speculation,  i.  35. 
Jefferson  the  younger  as  Goldfinch,  iv. 

253. 
Jefferson,  Thomas,  diversity  of  his  tal- 
ents, i.  200. 
Jefferson  University,  iii.  51. 
Jeflrey,  Rev.  Andrew,  i.  266. 
Jeffrey,  Lord  Francis : 
America  visited  by,  1813,  i.  30L 


INDEX. 


431 


Jeffrey,  Lord  Francie  : 
Brevoort,  Henry,  on,  i.  301. 
Columbus,  Life  of,  reviewed  by,  ii.  377. 
Irvinga'.d,  i.  377,  379,  386. 
Sketcn  Book  reviewed  by,  i.  19. 
Scott,  Sir  Walter,  compared  with,  i. 

303. 
Jenkinson,  Mr.,  ii.  188. 
Jemusjn,  Count,  his  hospitality,  ii.  110. 
Job  on  his  enemy's  writing  a  book,  i. 

290. 
John,  Prince  of  Saxony,  ii.  132, 133,  134, 

139. 
Johnson,  Mr.,  at  Liverpool  in  1815,  i.  342, 

350. 
Johnson,  Mrs.,  of  Bordeaux,  iii.  215,  302. 
Johnson,  Mrs,,  of  the  Park  Theatre,  i. 

162. 
Johnson,  Dr.,  on  Congreve's  Mourning 

Bride,  iv.  271. 
Johnson,  Sir  William,  his  influence  over 

the   Indians,  i.   39  ;    founds  Johns- 
town, 39. 
Johnstown     founded    by    Sir    William 

Johnston,  i.  39  ;  W.  I.  visits,  in  1800, 

1802,  and  1803,  39,  45,  48. 
Jomard,  Monsieur,  of  the  B.bliotheque 

Royale,  iv.  95. 
Jonathan    Oldstyle,   an     early  now.   de 

plume  of  W.  I.,  i.  47. 
Jonathan    Oldstyle,   where  written,  i. 

209. 
Jones,  Mr.,  at  Loch  Katrine,  iv.  2S6,  288. 
Jones,  Mrs.  Colford,  iii.  344. 
Jones,  George,  iii.  344,  395. 
Jones,  Joseph   Seawell,  his  History  of 

North  Carolina,  iii.  99,  100. 
Jones,  Owen,  his  Illustrations  of  the  Al- 

hambra,  iv.  236. 
Jones,  Samuel,  iii.  1S9. 
Jones,  Lady  Sir  William,  described,  ii. 

87. 
Jones,  William,  Secretary  of  the  Navy, 

i.  293. 
Jorge,   Don,   translator  of    the   Sketch 

Book  into  Spanish,  ii.  370,401. 
Juana,  W.  I.'s  housema'd  at  Madrid,  iii. 

216,  218,  342,  364,  379. 
Julien,  performances  of,  iv.  163, 171. 


K 


K ,  the  "  praist,"  i.  216. 

K ,  Miss  Mary,  iv.  132. 

Kaatskill  Mountains,  W.  I.'s  account  of, 

i.  40,  42. 
Katrina,  or,  The  Tales  of  a  Traveller,  ii. 

100,  101. 
Kay,  Mrs.,  ii.  416. 
Kean,  Edmund,  on  Young  the  actor,  ii. 

181 ;  W.  I.  on  the  acting  of,  ii.  343, 

344. 
Keene,  Laura,  her  theatre,  iv.  253. 
Keith,  Mariota,  marries  William  de  Ir- 

wyn,  i.  16. 
Keith,  Sir  Robert,  killed  at  the  battle  of 

Duplin,  i.  16  ;  his  daughter  marries 

Wiiliam  de  Irwyn,  16. 


Kelly,  Sir  Fitzroy,  iv.  89. 

Kemble,  Charles  . 
America  visited  by,  in  1833,  iii.  48. 
Cassio  by,  iv.  241. 
De  Camp,  M.ss,  marries,  i.  102. 
Payne,  J.  H.,  and,  ii.  170. 
Richelieu  by,  iv.  250. 

Kemble,  Frances  Anne,  in  America, 
1833,  iii.  48:  acting  of,  96. 

Kemble,  Gertrude,  marries  James  K. 
Paulding,  i.  168. 

Kemble,  Gouverneur.i.  165,  166,  167,289, 
348,  457,462  ;  iii.  46,  47,  127, 167,  168  ; 
iv.  109,  110,119,  308  ;  his  "  bachelor's 
nest  in  the  Highlands,"  ii.  426;  iii. 
27,  30  ;  iv.  110, 173,  211 ;  W.  I.  visits, 
1850,  iv.  74  ;  his  last  interview  with 
W.  I.,  290.    See  Letters. 

Kemble,  John,  ii.  41  : 
acting  of,  i.  156. 
Cooke,  G.  F.,  compared  with, 5.  278  ;  iv. 

242. 
Jaques  by,  iv.  273. 
Othello  by,  iv.  241. 

Kemble,  Peter,  i.  1C5,  245. 

Kemp.  Dr.  John,  Professor  of  Natural 
Philosophy  in  Columbia  College, 
death  of,  1812,  i.  286,  295. 

Kenilworth  Castle,  ii.  466. 

Kennedy,  Mrs.,  mother  of  John  P.  Ken- 
nedy, death  of,  1854,  iv.  179, 180. 

Kennedy,  Andrew,  iv.  167  ;  visited  by 
W.  I.  in  1853,  iv.  150,  153,  154,  163, 
164  ;  in  1S55,  185. 

Kennedy,  Anthony,  of  Baltimore,  iv. 
149,  151. 

Kennedy,  John  P.,  iii.  50;  iv.  107,  109, 
122,  163,  164,  244,  282  ;  portrait  of, 
147  ;  W.  I.  visits,  1S53,  iv.  124,  125, 
126,  133,  135,  137,  139,  140,  141,  148, 
149,  151,  152  ,  travels  with  W.  I., 
1853  ;  iv.  157,  158,  159 :  travels  South 
with  Millard  Fillmore,  1S54, 169, 170 ; 
visits  Sunnvside,  1853,  160,  and  1859, 
314,  316.    See  Letters. 

Kennedy,  Mrs.  John  P.,  iv.  126,  129,  133, 
134,  144,  145,  180,  211,  283;  visits 
Sunnyside  in  1853, 160.    See  Loiters. 

Kennedy,  M.ss  MaryE.,  iv.  135, 147.  See 
Letters. 

Kennedy,  Pend'eton,  iv.  152. 

Kennedy,  Rev.  Rann,  described,  i.  360. 

Kent,  Rev.  Mr.,  great-grandfather  of  W. 
I.,  i.  19. 

Kent,  Chancellor  James,  iii.  114 ;  pre- 
dicts W.  I.'s  early  death,  1802,  i.  46  ; 
presides  at  a  dinner  given  to  W.  I. 
1832,  47,  487. 

Kent,  Judice  William,  iii.  189. 

Kenney,  James,  ii.  204,  375  ;  described, 
45,  51,  446,  451  ;  annoyed  by  talk 
about  Scroope  Da  vies,  209,  210,  211  ; 
effect  on  him  of  the  failure  of  his 
Alcaid,  207,  209  ;  on  the  wars  of  the 
actors,  181. 

Kenseg,  Valley  of,  ii.  113, 114. 

Kidd,  Captain,  ii.  195. 

Kilkenny,  the  Lads  of,  i.  166, 167, 171 ;  ii. 
307. 


432 


INDEX. 


Kilmaster,  Mrs.  Ann,  schoolmistress  of 
W.  I.,  i.  28. 

Kinderhonk,  New  York,  W.  I.  at,  in 
1809,  i.  227  ;  iv.  81,  82. 

King,  Charles,  l'res.dent  of  Columbia 
College,!.  372;  iii.  99,  1S9  ;  iv.  234; 
his  account  of  the  dinner  to  W.  1., 
1832,  ii.  287. 

Kin</,  William  R.,  Minister  to  Paris,  1S44, 
iii.  343,  362. 

King's  Bench  prison  described,  iv.  104, 
'  105. 

Kin'/6borough,  Lord,  his  Antiquities  of 
Mexico,!  i.  135,  139, 141. 

Kingston,  Village  of,  iii.  53. 

Kirkland,  Mrs.  Caroline  M.,  iv.  173. 

Kirkpatnck,  Mr.,  grandfather  of  the 
Empress  of  France,  iv.  133. 

Kirkwall,  capital  of  the  Orkneys,  iv.  222. 

Kirwan,  Mr.,  iii.  344. 

Knickerbocker,  Dudrieh,  the  Dutch 
Herodotus,  ii.  492  ,  iv.  ISO,  230,  310  ; 
his  History  of  New  York,  composi- 
tion, publicat:on,  and  illustrations 
of.  opinions  o  •,  etc.,  i.  209,213,  T20, 
233-242,  246,  247,  260,  262,  281,  233, 
351,  301,  397,  416,  419,  451,  460  ;  ii.  24, 
26,  27,  30,  31,  64, 130, 131, 148, 186,  239, 
2S0  n.,  336,  337  ;  iii.  165,  396,  403  ;  iv. 
42,  43,  44,  49,  S3,  188,  244  ;  in  French, 
i.  260,  262  ;  A  list  on  and  Leslie's  illus- 
trations to,  i.  363,  366,  367,  S98,  401, 
403,  408  ;  ii.  25,  20,  27,  30,  31,  64,  130, 
131,  148,  186  ;  iv.  242  ;  Jarvis's  and 
Darlev's  illustrations  to,  242 ;  enjoyed 
by  S:btt,  i.  240  ;  Verplanck  on,  240  ; 
Monthly  Anthology  on.  238  ;  B'ack- 
wood'a  Magaz'ne  on,  451,  460  ;  Dick- 
ens on,  iii.  165  ;  Tuckerman  on,  iv. 
43. 

Knickerbocker  Gallcr.v,  iv.  173. 

Knickerbocker,  Herman,  iii.  52. 

Knickerbocker  Magazine,  W.  T.  con- 
tributes to,  ii.  374  ;  iii.  147-149,  152, 
153,  156,  158;  iv.  17,  186;  and  the 
Life  of  Columbus,  iii.  260  ;  First  Lo- 
comotive in,iv.  114;  G.  P.  R.  James 
writes  for,  i'i.  163. 

Knighton,  Sir  William,  iv.  141. 

Knox,  John,  preaching,  by  Wilkie,  ii. 
445. 

Knowledge,  importance  of  the  acquisi- 
tion of,  ii.  234. 

Kock,  Mr.,  of  Frankfort,  ii.  104. 

Kossuth,  Louis,  his  arrival  in  New  York, 
iv.  99, 101. 


L ,  Lady,  iv.  178. 

L ,  Miss  B.,  iv.  111. 

La  Butte,  Stuart  Newton  introduced  to, 

ii.  60. 
La  Jeunesse  de  Henry  V.,  ii.  171. 
La  Jeunesse  de  R;chelieu,  altered  by  W. 

I.  and  J.   H.  Payne,  and  acted,  ii. 

167,  169,  170,  171,  172.  173,  175,  176, 

184. 


La  Rabida,  convent  of,  ii.  333. 

Lackawaxen,  the,  iii.  169. 

"  Lads  of  Kilkenny."    See  Kilkenny. 

Lady  of  the  Lake  admired  by  \V.  I.,  253, 
254. 

Lafayette,  Marquis,  letter  from  Wash- 
ington to,  iv  298  ;  his  daughter-in- 
law  and  granddaughters,  ii.  230. 

Lake  Champlain,  British  defeated  at,  in 
1814,  i.  313. 

Lake  of  the  Four  Cantons,  iii.  375. 

Lake  George,  iv.  108. 

Lake  Ontario,  iv.  158. 

Lake  Winnepieaugee,  iii.  28,  n. 

Lalla  Rookh,  published  in,  America  m 
1817,  i.  374. 

Lamb,  Charles,  anecdote  of,  ii.  211;  on 
Copp's  song,  172. 

Lamb,  Lady  Carohnc,  her  affair  with 
Lord  Byron,  i.  401 ;  ii.  195. 

Land  speculations,  iii.  122,  152. 

Langstaff,  Launcclot,  of  Salmagundi,  1. 
170  ,  described,  1S4,  188. 

Lanjaron,  Spam,  ii.  299. 

Lanman,  Charles,  his  Adventures  in  the 
Wilds  of  America,  iv.  225,  226,  228  ; 
works  of,  iii.  30;  visits  Sunnyside 
iv.  228.    See  Letter?. 

Lansdowne,  Lord,  iv.  141 ;  at  Bowood, 
ii.  199  ;  and  the  Loves  of  the  An- 
gels, 181 ;  and  the  Tales  of  a  Trav- 
eller, 209. 

Lardner,  Dr.  N., makes  overtures  to  W. 
I.  for  a  History  of  the  United  States, 
ii.  424. 

Las  Casas,  h;s  account  of  Columbus,  ii. 
312,  327  ;  iv.  94. 

Las  dos  llcrrcanas,  ii.  393. 

Latomie,  garden  of  the,  i.  108. 

Latrobe,  Charles  Joseph,  iii.  26,  28,  29, 
30,  34,  40  ,  his  Rambler  in  North 
America,  20. 

Laura,  Petrarch's,  iii.  300  ;  tomb  of,  how 
demolished,  i.  70. 

Law,  Captain  of  the  Remittance,  i.  163. 

Lawrence,  Mr.,  portrait  painter,  iv.  172. 

Lawrence,  Captain  Jam/  s,  i.  299. 

Lawrence,  Silas,  iii.  94,  95. 

Lawrence,  S.r  Thomas,  his  paintings,  ii. 
223. 

Lay  of  the  Scottish  Fiddle,  i.  299. 

Le  Facheux,  by  Stuart  Newton,  success 
of,  ii.  44. 

Lea  <fe  Blanchard  and  W.  I.'s  books,  iii. 
228,  395,  396. 

Leamington,  W.  I.  visits,  in  1818,  i.  400. 

Lear  by  Stuart  Newton,  ii.  445. 

Leatherstocking,  Cooper's,  iv.  313. 

Lee,  Mr.,  iv.  87. 

Lee,  Mr.,  American  Consul  at  Bordeaux, 
i.  81,  85. 

Lee,  General  Charles,  iv.  193;  at  New 
York,  i.  20. 

Ledyards,  the,  iii.  2S7,  361. 

Lefiingwell,  Mr.,  escapes  drowning,  i. 
66  ;  commits  suicide,  67. 

Legends  of  the  Conquest  of  Spain,  com- 
position and  publication  of,  etc.,  ii. 
373,  389,  392  ;  iii.  72,  74,  76,  89,  220. 


INDEX. 


433 


Leggett,  "William,  his  character,  iii.  102  ; 

attacks  W.  I.,  99-111. 
Lembke,  Dr.,  his  work  on  Spain,  iii.  141. 
Leon,  General,  treachery  of,  iii.  238  ; 

shot,  240. 
Leopold,  Duke  of  Austria,  ii.  121. 
Leslie,  Miss,  sister  of  Charles  Leslie,  i. 

451 ;  ii.  2-5. 
Leslie,  Charles  Robert,  ii.  375,  415,  422, 
485;  iv.  68,  188,  221. 
Abbotsford  \isited  by,  ii.  223. 
Ai:ne  Page  by,  i.  402,  404. 
Autolycus  by,  ii.  140,  223. 
Catherine  and  Pttruchio  by,  ii.  445. 
Cooke's  portrait  by,  i.  405. 
Coronation,  the,  by,  iii.  196. 
death  of,  iv.  304. 
Don  Quixote  by,  iv.  1S9. 
Dutch  Courtship  by,  i.  361,  363,  397  ; 

ii.  186. 
Falstaffby,  i.  407. 

Irving  and,  i.  405,  406  ;  ii.  55, 171,  224. 
Irving's  portrait  by,  ii.  28,  29. 
Knickerbocker  illustrated  by,  i.   361, 

353,  397,  401  ;  iv.  242. 
May  Day,  by,  ii.  146. 
Powell,  Peter,  and,  ii.  62,  64. 
Royal  Christening  by,  iii.  190. 
Royal  Poet  illustrated  by,  ii.  61. 
Sancho  by,  ii.  194,  223. 
Shakspearc  brought  up  for  deer  steal- 
ing, by,  ii.  55, 146. 
West  Point,  professorship  of,  iii.  47, 
48,  n. 
Leslie,  Sir  John,  i.  384. 
Letters.     See  Correspondence. 
Letters  from  Washington  Irving,  to 


Mrs.,  cousin  and  heir  of  J.  JST. 

Hall,  ii.  356. 

Allibone,  8.  Austin,  iv.  236. 

Allston,  Washington,  i.  365. 

Bancroft,  George,  iv.  208,  245. 

Barney,  John,  iv.  90. 

Beebe,  Alexander,  i.  63. 

Bcntley,  Pic-hard,  iv.  88. 

B;ddle,  C.  C,  and  others,  iii.  24. 

Bolvillrr,  Mile.  Antoinette,  ii.  273,285, 
297,  319,  327. 

Brcvoort,  Henry,  i.  211,  215,  242,  260, 
267,  273,  274,  276,  277,  283,  294,  306, 
314,  321,  330,  332,  333,  334,  338,  339, 
340,  341,  342,  344,  347,  353,  357,  359, 
360,  368,  371,  3S7,  304,  396,  400,  414, 
420,  422,  423,  425,  428,  429,  430,  432, 
453,  454,  461  ;  ii.  17,  36,  48,  80,  86,  107, 
225,  240,  258,  281,  358,  385,  407.  411, 
452;  iii.  213,307. 

Buchanrm,  James,  iii.  380. 

Cabell,  Joseph  C,  i.  190. 

Clark,  Louis  Gaylord,  iii.  147. 

Cozzens,  Frederick  S.,  iv.  230. 

Davis,  Charles  Augustus,  iv.  116. 

Dolgorouki,  Prince  Demetri  Ivano- 
vitch,  ii.  273.  278,  293,  316,  332,  343, 
349,  365,  377,  3S4,  393  ;  iii.  251. 

Everett,  Alexander  H.,  ii.  245,  248, 
305,  312,  315,  335,  347,  364,  368,  379, 
400. 

Vol.  IV.— 19 


(23) 


Letters  from  Washington  Irving,  to 

Everett,  Edward,  iii.  117. 

Fairlie,  Miss  Mary,  i.  180, 186, 189,199. 

Foster,  Mrs.,  ii.  153, 155,  157, 158,  242. 

Fuller,  Mrs.  Emily,  ii.  129  ;  iv.  218. 

Furman,  John,  i.  46,  87. 

girls  at  Sunns'side,  iv.  128. 

Gray,  Edward,  iv.  143. 

Grinnell,  Mrs.  Charlotte  I.,  iv.  23. 

Grinnell,  Irving,  iv.  257. 

Grinnell,  Miss  Julia  I.,  iv.  251. 

Grinnell,  Moses  H.,  iv.  86. 

Grinnell,  Mrs.  Moses  II.,  iii.  249,  312. 

Hackett,  James  II.,  iv.  39. 

Hamilton,  Miss  Mary  H.,  iv.  75,  118, 
119. 

Hoffman,  Josiah  Ogden  I.,  174,  248. 

Hoffman,  Mrs.  Josiah  Ogden,  i.  191, 
217,  228,  243,  245,  251,  389. 

Hone,  Philip,  iii.  190. 

Irvii  g,  MitB  Catherine,  iv.  32, 107, 110, 
111,  112,  123,  125,  12G,  152, 1S5. 

Irving,  Miss  Charlotte,  iii.  246,  255. 

Irvine,  Ebcnczcr,  i.  241,  308,  315,  ?18, 
325,"  n.,  033,  346,  392,  396,  407,  409, 
412,  438,  445,  460;  ii.  57,  65,  71,  76, 
344,  354,  300,  383,  402,  405,  416,  418, 
442,  450,  479;  iii.  55,  79,90,97,  112, 
177,  179,  185,  228,  229,  230,  274,  305, 
341. 

Irving,  Edgar,  ii.  382. 

Irving,  Mrs.  (Julia)  Sanders,  iv.  171. 

Irving,  Miss  Mary,  iii.  322 ;  iv.  108. 

Irving,  Peter,  i.  148,  152, 161,  232,  291, 
293,  373,  370,  380,  383,  384  ;  ii.  53,  77, 
88,   138,  143,  160,  162,  164,  165,  166, 

168.169,  193,  198,  201,  202,  203,  204, 
205,  240,  309,  3SG,  340,  346,  352,  362, 
365,  371,  374,  375,  380,  382,  389,  390, 
395,  398,  403,  404,  406,  408,  410,  415, 
422,  423,  432,  434,  437,  438,  442,  443, 
447,  448,  450,  454,  464,  479,  480-484, 
486  ;  iii.  13,  14,  16,  22,  23,  24,  26,  28, 
43,  46,  49,  50,  51,  52,  53,  56,  57,  58,  64, 
65,  66,  69,  70,  72,  73,  75,  77,  78,  80,  81 
85,  88  ;  iv.  71,  72. 

Irving,  Pierre  Munro,  ii.  255,  258,  265, 
326  ;  iii.  00,  62,  90,  91,  98,  129, 143, 210, 
245,  267,  272,  306,  315,  332,  354,  380, 
381,  388,  390,  396,  397,  401 ;  iv.  17,  20, 
103,  130,  151,  154, 172,  192,  227. 

Irving,  Mrs.  Pierre  Munro,  iii.  211, 
231,  245,  270,  398  ;  iv.  18,  77,  130,  132, 
149, 152. 

Irving,  Pierre  Paris,  ii.  218, 233,  470. 

Irving,  Mies  Sarah,  iii.  192,  204,  275, 
315  ;  iv.  123, 125, 12S,  131, 150, 102, 164. 

Irving,  William,  i.  64,  65,  70,  72.  75,  78, 
82,  88,  91,  92,  93,  113,  123,  124,  127, 
138,  155,  270,  271,  820,  322,  357,  392, 
409  ;  ii.  14, 19. 

Kemble,  Gouverneur,  i.  168, 170;  ii.  426: 
iii.  47,  48,  119,  124,  402 ;  iv.  GG,  67, 102, 
211. 

Kennedy,  John  P.,  iv.  159,  169, 174, 179, 
180,  191,  210,  283. 

Kennedy,  Mrs.  John  P.,  Iv.  135,  144, 

167. 170. 

Kennedy,  Miss  Mary  E.,  iv.  147, 157, 
160. 


434 


INDEX. 


Betters  from  Washington  Irving,  to 
Lanman,  Charles,  iv.  30,  225,  228. 
Leslie.  Charles,  i.  403,  433,  434  ;  ii.  26, 
29,  31,  44,  58,  63, 129, 144, 185,  222, 249. 

Lieber,  Francis,  iv.  248. 

McCormick,  Richard  C,  iv.  117. 

McLane,  Louis,  ii.  400,  434,  455. 

Merwin,  Jesse,  iv.  81. 

Moore,  Thomas,  ii.  206. 

Murray,  John,  ii.  48,  178,  191,  262,  264. 

New  York  American,  Editor  of  the, 
iil.  100, 110. 

niece,  a,  iv.  192. 

Ogden,  Henry,  i.  172. 

parents,  his,  i.  45. 

Paris,  Miss  S.irah,  iii.  94. 

Paris,  Mrs.,  i.  71,  218  ;  ii.  83,  168,  213, 
284,  413,  460, 465  ;  iii.  30,  34,  36,  38,  39, 
41,  42, 126, 193,  195,  197,  201,  203,  205, 
206,  215,  216,  220,  232,  257,  259,  262, 
277,  292,  300,  304,  305,  310,  316,  320, 
324,  326,  334,  345,  346,  357,  364,  365, 
367,  368,  370.  376,  384,  391,  400  ;  iv.  26. 

Paulding,  James  K.,  i.  193,  454,  455  ; 
iii.  40  ;  iv.  201. 

Plaindealer,  Editor  of  the,  iii.  104. 

Post,  Miss  Lvdia  Minturn,  iv.  277. 

Prescott,  William  H.,  iii.  137. 

Presto:],  William  C,  iv.  287. 

Putnam,  George  P.,  iv.  120. 

Renwick,  James,  i.  286,  287,  289. 

Renwick,  Mrs.  Jane,  i.  351. 

Rogers,  Samuel,  ii.  475. 

Rofneyn,  Mrs.  Eliza,  iii.  225. 

Rush,  Richard,  ii.  21. 

S;ott,  Sir  Walter,  i.  441,  450. 

Htorrow,  Miss  Kate,  iv.  26,  27,  29 

Storrow,  Mrs.  Sarah,  i.  60  ;  iii.  161,  167, 
168,  170,  173,  174,  175,  219,  281,  282, 
287,  302,  311,  314,  315,  332,  339,  342, 
343,  357,  373,  374,  378,  395  ;  iv.  22,  24, 
33,  52,  72,  74,  84,  99, 105, 106,  119, 138, 
160,  182,  195,  212,  222,  239. 

Thomas,  Moses,  iv.  199,  200. 

Tieknor,  George,  iv.  69. 

Tuckerman,  Henry  T,  iv.  92,  206,  229. 

Unknown  Admirer,  an,  iv.  80. 

Van  Buren,  Martin,  iii.  127. 

Van  Wart,  Irvine,  iv.  21. 

Van  Wart,  Mrs.  "Sarah,  ii.  91,94,100, 
102,  109,  110,  117,  125,  130  ;  iii.  129, 
131, 153,  155,  156,  160, 168  ,  iv.  25. 

Webster,  Daniel,  iii.  180,  385. 

Wetherell,  Don,  ii.  396. 

Winthrop,  Robert  C,  iv.  141, 146. 

Young  Lady,  a,  iv.  79. 
Letters  to  Washington  Irving,  from 

Allibone,  S.  Austin,  iv.  235. 

Allston,  Washington,  i.  362,  397,  401. 

Aspinwall,  Colonel  Thomas,  ii.  268. 

Bancroft,  George,  iv.  194,  230,  281. 

Brace,  Charles  L.,  iv.  207. 

Brevoort,  Henry,  i.  298,  300,  302,  426, 
446  ;  ii.  38. 

Bryant,  William  Cullen,  ii.  472,  477, 
478. 

Cattermole,  Richard,  ii.  429. 

Clay,  Henry,  iii.  188. 

Cooper,  James  Fenimorc,  ii.  74. 


Letters  to  Washington  Irving,  from 
Cooper,  Thomas  A.,  i.  197,  203. 
Cozzens,  Frederick  S.,  iv.  230. 
Dickens,  Charles,  iii.  164, 173, 187  ;  iv. 

220. 
Fairlie,  Miss  Mary,  i.  183,  188. 
Fuller,  Mrs.  Emily,  iv.  217. 
Hoffman,  Mrs.  Josiah  Ogden,  i.  239, 431. 
Hone,  Philip,  iii.  188. 
Irving,  Ebenezer,  ii.  65,  76, 175. 
Irving,  Peter,  i.  167,  214,  222,  256,  257, 

303,321  ;  ii.  53,  66,  77,  78,  279,  350. 
Irving,  Pierre  Munro,  iii.  397  ;  iv.  14, 

153. 
Irving,  William,  i.  62,   67,  74,  88,  91, 

126,  127,  138,  408. 
James,  G.  P.  R.,  iii.  163. 
Legare,  Hugh  S.,  iii.  181. 
Leslie,  Charles,  ii.  29,  31,  32,  61,  251. 
Moore,  Thomas,  ii.  106,  421,  422. 
Motley,  J.  Lolhrop,  iv.  233. 
Murray,  John,  ii.  48, 177,  191. 
Murray,  John,  jr.,  iv.  89,  192. 
Newton,  Stuart,  ii.  59,  67,  211,  212,  2G8. 
Ogilvie,  James,  i.  369,  423. 
Paulding,  J.  K.,  i.  168,  285  ;  ii.  239,262. 
Payne,  John  Howard,  ii.  170,  171,  172. 
Powell,  Ptter,  ii.  32,  62. 
Prescott,  Wdiiam  H.,  iii.  134, 140, 151 ; 

iv.  203,  232,  266. 
Preston,  William  C,  iv.  286. 
Putnam,  George  P.,  iv.  189. 
Railroad  committee,  iv.  37. 
Rogers,  Samuel,  ii.  477. 
Rush,  Ilichard,  ii.  19. 
Scott,  Sir  Walter,  i.  439,  442,  450. 
Tuckerman,  Henry  T.,  iv.  91. 

Van  Bibber, ,  iii.  161. 

Van  Buren,  Murtin,  ii'.  126. 
Verplanck,  G.  C,  ii.  473. 
AVebstor,  Daniel,  iii.  177. 
Winthrop,  Robert  C,  iv.  141. 
Letters,  miscellaneous  : 
Byron,  Lord,  to  Moore,  Thomas,  ii.  26, 

208. 
Campbell,  Thomas,  to  Irving,  Peter,  i. 

303. 
Fuller,  Emily,  to  Irvine,  Pierre  Munro, 

ii.  128, 153. 
Godwin,  William, to  Ogilvie,  James,  1. 

422. 

Irving,  Peter,  to ,  iii.  113. 

Irving,  Peter,  to  Beasley,  Reuben,  iii. 

14. 
Irving,  Peter,  to  Irving,  W.,  iii.  15, 16, 

17,  23,  27,  28,  86. 
Irving,  Peter,  to  Paris,-Mrs.,  ii.  142. 
Irving,  William,  to  Irving,  Ebenezer, 

i.  392,  410. 
Irvine,  William,  to  Van  Wart,  nei  ry, 

i.  341. 
Leslie,  Charles,  to  his  sister,  i.  451, 
Lyttelton,  Lady  to  Rush,  Richaru,  ii. 

19. 
Newton,  Stuart,  to  Irving,  Peter,  ii.  491. 
Preston,  William  C,  toKemble,  Gouv- 

erneur,  iii.  178. 
Scott,  S  r  Walter,  to  Brevoort,  Henry, 

i.  240. 


INDEX. 


435 


Letters  from  High  Latitudes,  by  Lord 
Duff.rin,  iv.  273. 

Leutze,  Emanuel  G..  W.  I.  pleased  with, 
iv.  103. 

Lewis,  George  "Washington,  MSS.  of,  iv. 
148, 150, 151. 

Lewistown,  New  York,  iv.  158. 

Liberal?  of  Spain,  iii.  234. 

Libraries,  pleasure  of  ransacking  old,  ii. 
277. 

Lichfield  cathedral,  ii.  466. 

Lieber,  Francis,  on  Columbus,  Washing- 
ton, ard  William  of  Nassau,  iv.  247, 
248. 

Lillington  Churchyard,  ii.  57. 

Lima,  Count,  iii.  257. 

Lind,  Jenny,  as  a  singer  and  a  woman, 
iv.  75,  76,  77. 

Lindaxara,  Garden  of  the,  in  the  Alham- 
bra,  ii.  390,  391,  393  ;  iv.  217. 

Lion  of  the  We.-t  by  Paulding,  ii.  449. 

Liston  in  New- York,  1803,  i.  56  ;  dinner 
given  by,  ii.  374  ;  acting  of,  375. 

Literary  Fund  of  London,  iii.  198. 

Literary  Gazette,  notice  of  Life  of  Co- 
lumbus in,  ii.  375. 

Literary  leisure,  delights  of,  ii.  277. 

Literary  Magazine  and  American  Regis- 
ter, C.  B.  Brown  solicits  W.  I.'s  con- 
tributions to,  i.  47. 

Literary  mystifications,  W.  I.  on,  ii.  376. 

Literary  World  on  Irvii  g's  Works, 
edition  1848-*9,  iv.  51,  59. 

Little  Cloisters,  Westminster  Abbey,  iii. 
197. 

Little  man  John,  iii.  36,  41. 

Little  Miss  Muss  and  Hempen  House, 
iv.  26. 

Lively,  the  smack,  W.  I.  sails  in,  i.  376. 

Liverpool,  "  hospitality  "  of,  iii.  344. 

Livingston,  Brockholst,  W.  I.  studies 
law  with,  i.  44  ;  called  to  the  Bench, 
1802,  44  ;  referred  to,  iii.  345. 

Livingston,  Edward,  and  nullification,  [ 
iii.  45. 

Livingston,  Jasper  H.,  Secretary  of  Le- 
gation at  Madrid,  iii.  345,  355,  373, 
376. 

Livingston,  John  R.,  W.  I.  visit?,  in  1812, 
i.283. 

Livingston,  Robert  L.,  attention  to  W. 
I.',  i.  85. 

Livius,  Colonel,  ii.  133, 134,  140, 141, 148, 
149. 

Loch  Katrine,  iv.  286,  288. 

Lockhart,  John  Gibson,  ii.  433,  434. 
Cervantes,  Life  of,  by,  ii.  230,  347. 
Columbus,  Life  of,  reviewed  by,  ii.  375. 
Conquest  of  Granada   praised  by,  ii. 

361. 
Knickerbocker  reviewed  by,  i.  460. 
Irving,  Scott,  and,  ii.  458. 
likeness  of,  iv.  322. 
Sketch  Book  reviewed  by,  i.  451. 
speech-making  dreaded  by,  iii.  200. 
Lockhart,    Mrs.    Sophia,    ii.  485.      See 

Scott,  Sophia. 
Locomotive,  the  first,  iv.  114. 
Loire,  excursions  on,  ii.  214  ;  iii.  380. 


London.     See  Irving,  Washington. 
London,  Soc;ety  in,  iii.  214. 
London  Spectator  on  Astoria,  iii.  93. 
Longfellow,  Henry  Wadsworth,  with  W. 
I.  at  Madr  d  in  1827,  ii.  205,  266  ;  his 
early    admiration    of    the     Sketch 
Book,  266  ;    his  Address  on  W.  I. 
before  the  Massachusetts  Historical 
Society,  266  ;    an    acrostic   ordered 
from,  iv.  302  ;  Thackeray  on,  124. 

Longman  &  Co.,  W.  I.  visits  in  1817,  i. 
374  ;  dinner  at,  described  in  Buck- 
thome,  ii.  50. 

Longworth,  David,  publisher  of  Salma- 
gundi, i.  176  ;  takes  the  "  lion's 
sharo"  of  the  profits,  179,  194  ;  pub- 
lishes plays,  373,  375. 

Loos,  Comtesse  de,  ii.  135. 

Lord,  Daniel,  of  New  York,  iii.  113, 189  ; 
iv.  113. 

Lorenzo,  W.  I.'s  valet  at  Madrid,  iii.  281, 
283,  289,  303,  326,  £60,  301,  379. 

Los  Gringos,  by  II.  A.  Wise,  iv.  315. 

Louis  XIV.,  Miss  Pardoe's  Court  of,  iv. 
272  :  character  of,  272. 

Loui.s  XVIII.,  funeral  of,  ii.  214. 

Louis  Napoleon  (Napoleon  III.),  hia 
visit  to  W.  I.  at  Sunnyside,  iii.  110, 
117  ;  iv.  99,  138,  403  ;  Bis  coup  d'etat, 
100,  105, 106  ;  his  emperorship  pre- 
dicted by  W.  I.,  100. 

Louis  Philippe,  iii.  333  ;  as  Duke  of  Or- 
leans, 207  ;  adventures  of  in  America, 
363  ;  takes  oath  as  King  of  France, 
ii.  434  ;  inconsistency  of,  i  i.  24-1  ; 
W.  I.'s  interviews  with,  1S42,  1844, 
206,  207.  SC2  ;  meddles  with  Spanish 
politics,  2C4,  237,  240,  242. 

Louisiana,  Territory  of.  General  Wilkin- 
son Governor  of,  i.  192. 

Loves  of  the  Angela   by  Moore,  ii.  181. 

Low  Countries,  explosions  i:i,  in  ISC1,  ii. 
457. 

Lowe,  John,  his  Mary's  Dream,  iv.  277. 

Lowenstcin,  Baron,  ii.  ICo,  ISO,  1-19, 150, 
267. 

Lowenstcin,  Mademoiselle  Annette,  ii. 
136,  149,  150. 

Lowndes,  William,  of  South  Carolina, 
his  question  to  William  Irving,  i. 
323. 

Lucerne,  iii  375. 

Luisa  Carlota,  Infante,  aunt  to  Isabella 
III   of  Spain,  her  death,  320. 

Luke,  Father,  ii.  423. 

Lugne,  Court  of,  ii.  403. 

Luttrell,  Henry,  his  ready  wit,  ii.  47, 
181  ;  on  Talcs  of  a  Traveller,  209. 

Luxbounr,  Count,  ii.  147, 149. 

Lynch,  Dominick,  in  London  in  1824,  ii. 
225,  228,  230. 

Lyttelton,  Lady,  an  admirer  of  the 
Sketch  Book,  ii.  19. 


M 


Maeaulay,  Lord,  his  History  of  England, 
iv.  204. 


436 


INDEX. 


Macbeth,  iv.  313  ;  Cooke  asj.  278  ;  Cooper 
as,  278,  313  ;  iii  26  ;  Kemble  as,  i. 
278  ;  Young  as,  i.  343. 

McCall,  D:ck,  dubbed  knight,  i.  167  ;  ii. 
307. 

McClure,  Mr.,  at  Paris  in  1805,  i.  145  ; 
patronizes  Vanderlyn,  149. 

McCormick,  Richard  C,  iv.  117, 118.  See 
Letters. 

Mack,  General,  opinion  of,  in  England, 
in  1805,  i.  161. 

McKay,  Mr.,  introduces  W.  I.  to  Moore, 
ii.  33,  34. 

Mackenzie,  A.  S.    See  Slidell. 

Mackintosh,  Sir  James,  ii.  424  ;  on  the 
Life  of  Columbus,  ii.  313  ;  his  copy 
of  tho  Sketch  Book,  iii.  152 ;  W.  1. 
on,  ii.  81. 

McLane,  Louis,  iii.  45,  46,  54,  70,  75  ;  ap- 
pointed Minister  to  London,  ii.  399  ; 
iii.  3S0,  381,  390 ;  W.  I.  Secretary 
of  Legation  to,  ii.  400,  415  ;  a  favor- 
ite with  William  IV.,  432-443  ;  vis- 
its Paris,  435  ;  appointed  S"cretary 
of  the  Treasury,  454  ;  iii.  21  ;  pop- 
ularity of,  in  England,  ii.  45.  46  ;  Van 
Buren's  instructions  to,  4S0;  enter- 
tains W.  I.,  22. 

McLane,  Mrs.  Louis,  ii.  437,  45S. 

MsLcan,  Rebecca,  ii.  458. 

McLean,  Sally,  ii.  458. 

Maclaughiin,  Dr  ,  ii.  188. 

Macready,  the  actor,  ii.  451. 

McVickar,  Rev.  Dr.,  iv.  329. 

Madison,  President  James,  described,  i. 
263  ;  and  the  war  of  1S12-U4,  311. 

Madison,  Mrs.,  i.  291 ;  W:  I.  attends  her 
levees  in  1S11,  262,  368:  described, 
263  ;  a  warm  friend  of  W.  I.'s,  272. 

Madrid  as  a  resort  for  Americans,  iii. 
333;  unsuited  for  a  court  residence, 
334,  344  ;  bull  fights  in,  iv.  261  ;  Royal 
Gallery  of,  iv.  96  ;  W.  I.'s  residence 
in,  in  1826,  ii.  251  ct  sag.  ;  attack 
upon  the  palace,  in  1841,  iii.  237-240  ; 
W.  I.'s  arrival  at,  in  1842,  216  ;  life 
at,  225;  under  arms  in  1843,  283- 
293  ;  iv.  100  ;  festivities  in  1843-'4, 
iii.  311,  364-369  ;  vicinity  of,  376. 

Madrid  Gazette  and  the  Oregon  ques- 
tion, iii.  3S9. 

Madrid,  New  York,  in  1803,  i.  56. 

Maestricht,  cavern  near,  i.  153. 

Magnolia,  the,  iii.  99. 

Magnus  V.,  last  of  the  Norwegian  earls 
who  governed  the  Orkneys,  i.  18. 

Mahomet  and  his  Successors  by  W.  I., 
ii.  373  ;  iv.  47,  59,  CI,  62,  72. 

M.ilion,  Lord,  ii.  269,  270. 

Malaga,  ii.  297,  302,  304,  305.  308. 

Malta,  S  r  Isaac  Ball,  Governor  of,  i.  99. 

M:.nn  family,  near  Sunnyside,  iii.  230. 

Mansion  House  Hotel,  Philadelphia,  iii. 
25. 

Manzanares,  Valley  of  the,  iii.  238. 

March,  Mr.,  i.  306,  307. 

Mardyn,  Mrs.,  W.  I.  on  her  acting,  i.343. 

Margaret,  Queen,  anniversary  of  the 
death  of,  ii.  269. 


Maria  Christina,  married  to  Ferdinand 
VII.  of  Spain,  i.ii  350;  her  govern- 
ment, 222,  233,  234,  235,  236  ;  abdi- 
cates,  236 ;  resides  at  Paris,  237  ; 
proclaimed  Queen,  237  ;  conspiracy 
of,  240  ;  retun  s  to  Spain,  322-331, 
334-338  ;  references  to,  335,  336.  337, 
338-352,  353,  365,  366,  371,  372,376, 
384. 

Marie,  Mademoiselle,  ii.  304,  324,  £31. 

Marie  Ai  toilette,  iv.  245  ;  her  prison 
visited  by  W.  I. ,  ii.  34. 

Marie  Louise,  Archduchess  of  Austria, 
widow  of  Napoleon  l.,ii.l20. 

Marlborough,  Duke  of,  ii.  115  ;  and 
Blenheim,  466. 

Marmion,  i.  377.    See  Scott,  Sir  Walter. 

Marnex,  Count,  iii.  327. 

Mario,  performance  of,  iv.  181. 

"  Marion's  Men,"  ii.  474. 

"Marion's  name,"  iii.  104,  105. 

Marquis,  Story  of  the,  ii.  188. 

Marquis  de  Mob,  of  Madrid,  iii.  247. 

Married  and  Single,  ii.  170. 

Mars,  Mademoiselle,  her  acting,  ii.  182. 

Marseilles  In  1844,  iii.  360. 

Martha's  Vineyard,  i  i.  211. 

Martin's  portrait  of  W.  I.,  iv.  83. 

Marvel,  Ike,  iv.  119. 

Mary's  Dream  by  Lowe,  iv.  277. 

Mary,  Queen  of  Scots,  one  of  the  prisons 
of,  ii.  461. 

Martyr,  Peter,  ii.  312. 

Mason,  John  M.,  D.D.,  of  New  York,  i. 
287,  288,  386. 

Massachusetts  Historical  Society,  iv. 
205  ".  Longfellow's  address  Lefore,  on 
W.  I.,  ii.  267. 

Massie,  Mr.,  of  Virginia,  at  Paris  in 
1805,  i.  153. 

Massimino,  Count,  ii.  354. 

Ma6terton,  Henry,  W.  I.  etudies  law 
with,  i.  37. 

Mateo,  cicerone  of  Granada,  iii.  218. 

Mathews,  Charles,  the  comedian,  W.  I. 
on,  ii.  87  ;  and  the  "  American,"  484. 

Maury,  Fontaine,  of  New  York,  i.  262. 

Max,  Prince  of  Saxony,  ii.  132, 135, 139. 

Maxwell,  Mr.,  in  Europe  in  1805,  i.  129, 
145. 

May  Day  by  Leslie,  ii.  146. 

Mayence,  ii.  96,  98. 

Mayor  of  New  York,  W.  I.  declines  the 
nomination  for,  iii.  126. 

Mazouda,  the  Algerine  frigate,  captured 
by  Commodore  Decatur,  i.  329. 

Meade,  Rev.  Dr.,  iv.  329. 

Medea  of  Seneca,  iv.  247,  248. 

Medical  Dictionary,  Dr.  Dunglison's,  iv. 
260. 

Medina  Celi,  Duchess  of,  iii.  297. 

Medina  Celi,  Duke  of,  entertains  Co- 
lumbus, iv.  97. 

Mediterranean,  climates  which  border 
the,  iii.  357  ;  scenery  of  the  coast  of 
the,  ii.  294,  295,  302,  304. 

Mediums,  spiritual,  iv.  307. 

Medwin,  Captain,  ii.  184,  187,  188  ;  iv. 
70,  71,  72. 


INDEX. 


437 


Medwin,  Captain,  on  Lord  Byron,  ii. 
182, 184,  232  :  his  "Wanderer,  182, 183. 

Melbourne,  Lord,  ii.  436. 

Meline,  Mr.,  iii.  163. 

Melmotu,  Mrs.,  tue  actress,  i.  35. 

Metros.',  slip  of  ivy  from,  planted  at 
S.mnyside,  i.  267. 

Memory,  Pleasures  of,  by  Rogers,  ii.  87. 

Mentz.    See  Mayence. 

MenzikolT,  Prince,  ii.  134. 

Mercantile  class  in  United  States,  iii. 
121. 

Mercer,  Colonel  John,  of  Fredericks- 
burg, in  Europe  ia  1805,  i.  127,  128, 
145,  190. 

Mercha.it,  life  of  a,  in  America,  ii.  233  ; 
importance  of  French  to,  235. 

Mered.th,  Mr.,  iv.  170. 

Merit  and  modesty,  i.  462. 

Merry,  Captain,  of  the  Rosalie,  5.  412. 

Merwin,  Jesse,  the  original  of  Ichabod 
Crane,  iv.  80,  81.     See  Letters. 

Messina,  W.  I.  visits,  in  1804,  i.  88,  93, 
101,  104. 

Methusaleh,  age  of,  iii.  375. 

Methven,  Robert  Bruce  is  routed  at,  i. 
15  ;  eludes  his  pursuers,  15. 

Metropolis,  belle  of  a,  ii.  317. 

Mexican  correspondence,  by  Daniel  Web- 
ster, iii.  250. 

Mexico,  History  of  tho  Conquest  of, 
meditated  by  W.  I.,  ii.  270;  aban- 
doned to  W.  H.  Prescott,  iii.  133- 
147,  332  ;  composed  by  Prescott,  ii. 
270  ;  iii.  143  ;  W.  I.'s  plan  of,  ii.  143- 
145  ;  W.  I.'s  opinion  of  Prescotl's, 
iii.  312. 

Mexico,  the  sh'p  W.  1.  sails  in  for  Liv- 
erpool, 1S15,  i.  329. 

Mexico,  war  between  tho  United  States 
and,  in  1846,  iii.  388,  390. 

Meze,  beaut  ful  situation  of,  i.  73. 

Middle  Dutch  Church,  New  York, 
transformed  to  a  post  office,  i.  19. 

Middleton,  Arthur,  Minister  to  Russia, 
iii.  215. 

Milan,  W.  I.  visits,  1805,  i.  143. 

Miller,  John,  publishes  the  Sketch 
Book,  i.  373,  445,  449,  450  ;  proposes 
to  emirate  to  New  York,  375 ;  fails, 
452,  453;  book  agent  in  London,  ii. 

Mills,  Frank,  ii.  1S8,  189,  198,  423 ;  as  a 
dramatist,  483,  484. 

Milton,  John,  quotations  from,  iv.  179. 

Milwaukie,  iii.  401;  iv.  174. 

Minn,  Countess,  governess  of  Isabella 
II.,  iii.  222,  236,  239;  superseded, 
295. 

Mina,  General,  iii.  222, 237. 

Minister's  Wooing,  the,  by  Mrs.  Stowe, 
iv.  301. 

Mississippi  River,  scenery,  of,  iii.  37. 

Mitchell,  Doivild  G.,  iv.  85,  119;  Rev- 
eries of  a  B  ichelor  by,  85 ;  W.  I.  ad- 
mires the  writings  of,  ii.  431. 

Mitchell,  .Dr.  Samuel,  his  Picture  of 
New  York  suggests  Knickerbocker, 
i.  213. 


Moderados  of  Spain,  iii.  218,  311,  317, 

322,  329,  330,  336,  364. 
"  Modest  merit,''  caut  respecting,  ii.  221. 
Modesty  and  merit,  i.  462. 
Moguez,  Pinzons  of,  ii.  339. 
Mohawk  River,  iv  312. 
Monarchists  of  Spain,  1844,  iii.  372. 
Money  Diggers,  Story  of  the,  ii  212,  213. 
Monkbarns  in  the  Antiquary,  iv.  261. 
Monocacy,  scenery  of  the,  iv.  150. 
Montaaue,    Willoughby,    travels    with 

W.  I.  in  1822,  ii.  125. 
Montgomery,  Alabama,  iv.  171. 
Monthly  Anthology.     See  Anthology. 
Monthly  Review  on  Salmagundi,  i.  213. 
Montijo,  Countess  of,  mother  of  the  Em- 
press of  France,  iii.  322,  323  ;  iv.  134. 
Montijo,  Eugei.ie.     See  Eugenie. 
Mo  itijo,  Marqirs,  iv.  134. 
Montreal,  in  1S03,  i.  57,  £9  ;  fur  trade  of, 

59;180S,  21G,  219 
Moors  and    Chr  stians,    encounters  "be- 
tween,  ii.  287. 
Moore's  Legacy,  tale  of,  ii.  396. 
Moor  Rasis,  Chronicle  of,   ii.  3S9.    See 
Moorish,  Moors,  Moriscoes,  Moslem. 
Moore,  Rev.  Mr.,  iv.  329. 
Moore,   Mrs.    Bessy,   ii.   201,    208,  422; 
Moore's  affection  for,  39;  iv.  198;  on 
Br  icebridge  Hall  and  its  author,  ii. 
107 ;  on  Tales  of  a  Traveller,  209 ;  re- 
gard for  W.  I.,  421. 
Moore,  John,  iv.  82. 
Moore,  Robert  S.,  iv.  129. 
Moore,  Thomas: 
Bermuda  business  of,  ii.  33,  47, 68. 
Byron's  Letters,   etc.,  by,  ii.  208,  375, 

418. 
Byron's  MS.   Memoirs  destroyed  by, 

ii.  68,  60,  195,  196. 
Campbell  aid,  ii.  421. 
conversation  of,  ii.  201. 
cottage  of,  ii.  199. 
death  of,  iv.  104. 

Fitzgerald,  his  Life  of,  li.  421,  422. 
Irving  and,  ii.  33-39,  79, 199,  424  ;  iii. 

198  ,  iv.  104,  320. 
Irving  described  by,  ii.  200  ;  iii.  199. 
Irving    describes,   ii.  45,  49,  419,   iv. 

176. 
Lalla  Rookh  of,  i.  374. 
Loves  of  the  Ansrels  of,  ii.  181. 
Nugee  and,  iv.  177. 
Rogers  on,  ii.  204,  208. 
Russell,  Lord  John,  on,  ii.  181. 
sons  of,  ii.  209  ;  iii.  198. 
Sheridan's  Memoirs  by,  ii.  208,  281,376. 
vindication  of,  by  Irving,  iv.  176. 
wife  of,  his  affection  for,  ii.  39  ;  iv.  198. 
Moore,  Russell,  son  of  the  poet,ii.  209. 
Moore.  Thomas,  jr.,  son  of  the  poet,  iii. 

198. 
Moorish  domination  in  Snain.  Chroni- 
cles of,  by  W.  I.,  ii.  373  ;  monarclis, 
their  habits  and  taste,  288,  289; 
wars  in  Spain,  384. 
Moorish  Chronicles  projected  by  W.  I., 
iv.  14-19,  64.  Sea  Moor,  Moors, 
Moslem,  Moriscoes. 


438 


INDEX. 


Moors  in  Spain,  characteristics  of,  ii.  322, 
330,  386;  expulsion  of,  from  Spain, 
317,  322 ;  remains  of,  in  Spain,  317, 
321,  322. 
Moreau  banished  for  two  years,  i.  65. 
Morgan,  Rev.  Dr.,  iv.  329. 
Morier,  Mr.,  at  Dresden  in  1822,  ii.  127, 

132. 148, 149. 
Moriscoes,  persecution  of,  in  Spain,  iv. 

266. 
Morning  Chronicle,  edited  by  Peter  If- 
vintr,  i.  47,  176;  W.  I.  contributes  to, 
47." 
Morpeth,  Lord,  in  America  in  1841,  iii. 

174. 
Morris  Canal  and  Banking  Company, 

iii.  70. 
Morris,  George  P.,  co-editor  of  the  New 
York  Mirror,  iii.    19;  and  W.  I.'s 
tale  of  the  Wife,  341. 
Morris,  Gouverneur,  iv.  207. 
Moslem  Empire  in   Spain,   iv.  15.    See 

Moor,  Moorish,  Moors,  Moriscoes. 
Motley,  John  L.,  his  Rise  of  the  Dutch 

Republic,  iv.  231. 
Mount    Vernon,    Washington's    closing 

days  at,  iv.  278  ;  in  1853,  127, 132. 
Mountjoy,  tale  of,  iv.  188,  189. 
Mourning  Bride,  quotation  from,  iv.  271. 
Mozart  and  his  operas,  ii.  116. 
Mumford,  Mr.,  of  New  York,  in  Lon- 
don in  1805,  i.  163. 
Munich  described,  ii.  116. 
Muiioz,  favorite  of  the  Queen  Regent  of 

Spain,  iii.  234. 
Murcia  described,  ii.  409,  411. 
Murillo's  Virgin  of  the  Assumption,  iii. 
253;  in  a  tableau,  ii.   275,  master- 
pieces of,  309,  311,  318. 
Murray,  Lieutenant  of  the  U.  S.  Ship 

President,  i.  111. 
Murray,  John,  ii.  248,  249,  250,  453,  470, 
474. 
Abbotsford  and  Newstead  Abbey  and, 

iii.  70. 
Alhambra,  Tales  of  the,  and,  ii.  442. 
bookstore  of,  i.  372. 
Byron  and,  i.  374:  ii.  68,  69,  375. 
character  of,  ii.  24,  48,  250,  335  ,  iii.  89. 
Columbus,  Life  and  Voyages  of,  and, 

ii.  248,  251,  268,  279,  281,  313,  353. 
drawing  room  of,  i.  454,  455. 
entertainments  of,  i.  373. 
Everett,  A.  H.,  his  America  and,  ii. 

336. 
Irving  and,  ii.  26,31,58,  60,  177,  191, 
203,  230,  238,  255,  345,  347,  362 :  iii. 
273  ;  iv.  87. 
Knickerbocker  and,  ii.  25. 
notorieties  visit,  iv.  92. 
Pioneers  and,  ii.  75. 
Quarterly  Review  and,  ii.  224,  346  ,  iii. 

267,  272. 
Sketch  Book  and,  i.  436,  446,  447,  453, 

460,  461. 
Sny  and,  ii.  75. 

Washington  Correspondence  and,  ii. 
335. 
Murray,  John,  jr.,  succeeds  his  father, 


iv.  92;  his  copyrights  in  Irving's 
works,  87,  89. 

Music,  charm  of,  iv.  34.  180,  277. 

Mustapha  Rub-a-dub  'Keli  Khan,  let- 
ters from,  i.  177. 

"  My  Sweet  Girl,''  an  acrostic,  iv.  302. 

My  Uncle,  Story  of,  ii.  188. 

Mysterious  Picture,  Story  of  the,  ii.  188. 


N 


Nantes,  iii.  380. 

Naples,  W.  I.  at,  in  1805,  i.  125,  129  ; 
Bay  of,  described,  125, 

Napoleon  I.,  empire  of,  iv.  99, 100  ;  and 
Spain,  iii.  232. 

Napoleon  Bonaparte,  death  of,  ii.  51,  80. 

Napoleon,  Life  of,  by  Scott,  ii.  281 ;  his 
son,  120. 

Napoleon  III.,  marriage  of,  iv.  133, 138. 
See  Louis  Napoleon. 

Narvaez,  General,  iii.  283,  285,  289,  296, 
299,  301,  311,  364,  365,  366,  367  ;  de- 
scribed, 365,  370,  371,  372  ,  restored 
to  power,  383  ;  banished  from  Spain, 
3S4,  387. 

Nassau,  Duke  of,  hunting  lodge  of,  ii. 
96. 

Nassau,  William  of,  compared  with 
Washington,  iv.  247,  248. 

Nassione,  Count,  on  the  birthplace  of 
Columbus,  ii.  354 

National  Bank,  iii.  123. 

National  Intelligencer,  iv.  228,  286. 

Nations,  generosity  their  true  policy,  ii. 
189. 

Nautilus,  U  S.  Schooner,  arrives  at  Mes- 
sina, i.  102. 

Naval  Chronicle,  J.  K.  Paulding  con- 
tributes to,  i.  349. 

Naval  victories  of  1812,  i.  292. 

Navarette,  Don  Martin  Fernandez  de, 
ii.  366,  370  ;  iii.  141,  252 ;  his  Voy- 
ages of  Columbus,  ii.  247,  249,  25*2, 
316,  326,  328,  370,  386  ,  iii.  263,  264, 
268  ;  iv.  48  ,  publishes  a  portrait  of 
Columbus,  94. 

Neckar,  the  River,  ii.  109. 

Ned,  W.  I.'s  horse,  iv.  76,  78. 

Nelson,  Lord,  his  fleet  seen  by  W.  I.,  i. 
106  ;  his  corpse  visited  by  W.  I.  107  ; 
his  last  victory  and  death,  161. 

Nelson,  Mr  ,  of  Virginia,  visited  by  W. 
I.  in  1853,  iv.  164-166. 

Nelson,  Secretary,  iv.  227. 

Nemours,  Duke  de,  tilu  363. 

Netherlands,  agriculture  in,  in  1805,  i. 
153. 

Neu'lly,  Louis  Philippe  at,  iii.  206. 

Nevis,  New  York,  iii.  344,  345. 

New  Amsterdam,  i.  486. 

New  England  during  the  Revolution, 
iv.  245. 

New  Orleans.  See  Jackson,  General 
Andrew. 

New  Orleans  in  1S32,  iii.  43. 

New  York  city,  1776-'83,  i.  19-21 ;  1805, 
164,  186-188  ;    1807,  iv.  25 ;  1814,  i. 


INDEX. 


439 


312;  lS24-,5,  ii.  225,  234;  1829,  387; 
1832,  489  ;  iii.  13,  52  ;  1836,  89  ,  1842, 
183  ;  1847,  iv.  25 ;  1858,  252  ;  1859,  in 
mourning  for  W.  I.,  328;  Atlantic 
Cable  celebration  in,  252 ,  elec- 
tion in,  1805,  i.  186-188  ;  President 
Felton  on  literary  society  in,  iii.  183 ; 
swearing  in,  in  early  times,  iv.  306. 
New  York  American,  iii.  99. 
New  York  Courier  and    Inquirer  on 

Wolfert's  Roost,  iv.  187. 
New  York  Evening  Post,  i.  234,  407  ;  ii 
75  ;  iii.   102  ;  iv.   93,  271 ;  on  Irving, 
46.  48  ;  on  Wolfert's  Roost,  187. 
New  York  Historical   Society,   iv.  199  ; 
Knickerbocker  dedicated  to,  1809,  i. 
237;  Daniel  Webster's  Address  be- 
fore, 1852,  iv.    103  ;  semi-centennial 
anniversary  of,  1854,    181;    Dr.  Du 
Witt's  Address  before,  1S55,  19S. 
New  York  Independent,  notice  of  W.  L 

in,  iv.  318. 
New  York  Mirror,  iii.  19. 
New  York,  Picture  of,  by  Dr.  Samuel 

L.  Mitchell,  i.  214. 
New  York  Society  Library,  iii.  133. 
Newark,  New  Jersey,  i.  166. 
Newstead  Abbey,  W.  I.'s  visit  to,  in 
1831-'2,  ii.  462,  463,  467,  468,  469  ,  iv. 
5L 
Newstead  Abbey  and  Abbotsford.    See 

Abbotsford 
Newton,  Stuart,  i.  406. 

Abbotsford  visited  by,  ii.  223. 

Bassanio  by,  ii.  445. 

Belinda  by,  ii.  445. 

Conquest  of  Granada  praised  by,  ii. 

388. 
Doctor  Porceaugnac  by,  ii.  194. 
Don  Quixote  by,  ii.  185. 
Greenwich  by,  ii.  131. 
Irving  and,  i.  406 ;  ii.  28. 
Irving  described  by,  i.  406;  ii.  491. 
Irving  describes,  i.  407,  434  ;  ii.  224. 
Irving,  portraits  of,  by,  i.  453,  460  ;  ii. 

28.29. 
Le  Facheux  by,  ii.  44. 
Lear  by,  ii.  445. 
popularity  of,  ii.  375,  422. 
Ticknor,  George,  and,  iv.  68. 
Wilkie  and,  i.  59,  60. 
Niagara  Falls,  iv.  158,  159. 
Niagara  River,  iv.  15S. 
Nice,  W.  I.  at,  in  1804,  79,  87. 
Nicholas,  of  the  Alhambra,  iii.  218. 
Nicholas,   Charles,  marries  Ann    Hoff- 
man, i.  250. 
Nicholson,  Jack,  i.  349  ;  ii.  88,  387,  C97, 

399,  452. 
Nile,  Delta  of  the,  ii.  410. 
Nimrod  Wildfire  by  Hackett,  ii.  449. 
Nina,   of  the  Alhambra,   death  of,  iii. 

218. 
"  Nine  Worthies,"  who?  i.  166. 
Nismes,  W.  I.  at,  in  1804,  i.  74. 
Norma,  Parodi's  and  Grisi's,  iv.  76. 
North    American   Review   on   Cooper, 
iv.  313  ;  notice  in,  of  the  Life  and 
Voyages  of  Columbus,  ii.  312,  337, 


377  ;  on  the  Sketch  Book,  i.  421 ;  on 
the  Tales  of  the  Alhambra,  iii.  21 ; 
on  the  Tour  on  the  Prairies,  66,  67  ; 
on  Wheaton's  History  of  the  North- 
men, 267. 

North  Carolina,  iiL  99,  100,  101. 

Northeastern  boundary  dispute,  iii.  248. 

North,  Lord,  described  by  Bancroft,  iv. 
246. 

Northland,  Lord,  ii.  231. 

Norton,  Hon.  Mrs  ,  beauty  of,  iv.  274. 

Novel,  W.  I.  urged  to  write  a,  ii.  227. 

Novel  writing  easier  than  the  compo- 
sition of  short  sketches  or  talcs,  ii. 
227. 

Nugee,  the  London  tailor,  W.  I.,  and 
Tom  Moore,  iv.  177. 

Nullification  in  South  Carolina,  iii.  21, 
44,  49  ;  iv.  2S6  ;  debate  on,  in  Con- 
gress, iii.  49,  50. 


O 


Oakley,  Thomas  J.,  iii.  189. 
Oakley,  Miss,  of  New  York,  iii.  217. 
Ochiltree  in  the  Antiquary,  iv.  261. 
O'Donnell,    General,    proclaims    Maria 
Christina,   iii     237 ;  returns  in   tri- 
umph, 296 
Ogden,  Mrs.,  not  pleased  with  the  re- 
ports about  Knickerbocker's    His- 
tory, i.  239. 
Ogden,  Miss   Eliza,  vitits  Ogdensburg 

in  18C3,  i.  48. 
Ogden,  Frank,  ii.  416. 
Ogden,  Henry,  Irving's  anecdote  of,  i. 

165. 
Ogden,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ludlow,  visit  Og- 
densburg in  1803,  i.  48. 
Ogdensburg,  visited  by  Hoffman,  W.  Ir- 
ving, and  party,   in   1803,  i.   48-59  , 
visited  again  by  W.  I.  in  1853,  60 , 
iv.  157, 158. 
Ogilvie,  James,   i.   S99 ;  as  Glencoe  in 
Mountjoy,  and  in  Leslie's  Don  Quix- 
ote,  ii.   185;  iv.   189;  lectures  of,  i. 
369,  372  ;  predicts  W.  I.'s  success  in 
literature,  i.  422,  435. 
Ohio  River,  scenery  of,  iii.  37. 
Old  age,  death  in,  iv.  180. 
Old  bachelors  should  not  be   fusty  or 

crusty,  iv.  106. 
Oldstyle    Papers    surreptitiously   pub- 
lished, i.  47  ;  W    I.'s  opinion  of  48. 
See  Oldstyle. 
Old  Continental,  by  J.  K.  Paulding,  iv. 

201. 
Olozaga,  Mr.,  Spanish  Minister  of  State, 

iii.  316,  317,  318,  319. 
Ommiades,  dynasty  of,  iv.  15. 
O'Neil,  Miss,  W.  I.  on  her  acting,  i.  342, 

345. 
Opera  in  New  York,  in  1848,  iv.  34.  75, 

76,  102,  122,  123,  163,  171,  181. 
Orcadian  branch  of  the  Irvings,  i.  13-18. 
Oregon    question,  1844,  iii.  380,  381,  382, 

389  ;  settlement  of,  390. 
Orkney  Islands   governed  by  the  Nor- 


440 


INDEX. 


wegian   earls,  i.  18  ;  Irvines  of  the, 

14,  17  ;  iv.  222. 
Orleans,  France,  iii.  215. 
Orleans,  Duke  of.    See  Louis  Philippe. 
Orleans,  Duke  of,  killed  by  a  fall,  iii. 

363. 
Orme,  Mr.,  W.  I.  visits,  in  1817,  i.  37. 
O'Shea,  Mr.,  Madrid,  iii.  374. 
Oswegatehie,  i.  55  ;  iv.  157, 158.    See  Og- 

densburg. 
Oswegatehie  River  in  1803,  i.  55 
Othello,  John  Kemble  in,   iv.   313  ;  in 

1805,  i.  156, 157,  158  ;  iv.  241 ;  passago 

from,  iv.  262. 
Oiiwein,  convent  of,  ii.  153. 
Oxford,   University    of,    makes    W.  I. 

LL.  D.,  ii.  430. 


P ,  Mademoiselle,  in  a  tableau,  ii. 

296. 

P ,  Mr.,  iv.  148. 

Packenham,  Mr.,  and  the  Oregon  ques- 
tion, iii.  381. 

Paine,  Robert  Treat,  i.  299. 

Painters  of  the  time  of  Charles  V.  of 
Germany,  iv.  95. 

Painting,  Italian,  iv.  96  ;  in  Seville,  ii. 
314,  317,  318  ;  in  Spain,  under  Fer- 
dinand and  Isabella,  iv.  96. 

Palace,  moralizing  in  a,  i  i.  369. 

Palermo,  W.  I.  at,  in  1805,  i.  123. 

PalfTy,  Countess,  ii.  134. 

Palmeria,  Baron,  W.  I.  attends  ball  of, 
i.  121. 

Palmerston,  Lord,  ii.  436  ,  William  IV. 
on,  457. 

Palos,  W.  I.  visits,  ii.  339,  341. 

Pamplona,  citadel  of,  i.i.  237. 

Paradise,  situation  of,  ii.  03. 

Pardoe,  Julia,  her  Court  of  Louis  XIV., 
ii.  272. 

Par':s,  i.  141  ;  ii.  435  ;  iii.  203,  306,  343, 
375  ;  as  a  resort  for  Americans,  333  , 
as  a  residence,  14,  15  ;  W.  I.  on  tho 
society  of,  etc  ,  i.  149  ;  ii.  19,  49  ,  iii. 
209,214  ;  political  dramas  performed 
in,  iv  138  ;  under  Napoleon  I.,  and 
Napoleon  III ,  100. 

Paris,  Sketches  in,  in  1825,  by  W.  I.,  iv. 
187. 

Paris,  Daniel,  marries  Catherine  Irving, 
i.  39  ;  removes  to  Jo'instown,  39  ; 
references  to,  242,  iii..  29. 

Paris,  Mrs.  Daniel  (£.  e.,  Irving,  Cathe- 
rine, g.  v.),  i.  39  ;  i  i.  58. 

Park  Theatre,  New  York,  Cooper  opens, 
1807,  with  an  Address  by  W.  I.,  i. 
204  ;  referred  to,  iv.  242. 

Parodi,  Prima  Donna,  iv.  75  ;  as  Norma 

and  Lucretia  B;>rgia,  76. 
Parr,  Dr.,  described  by  W.  I.  i.  360. 
Partanna,  Prince,  ii.  279. 
Party,  Spanish,  in  1807  and  1811,  i.  186, 

268. 
Passports,  troubles  attending,  i.  74,  75, 
76,  77,  79,  80,  82,  84,  85. 


Pa.-ta,  Madam,  iii.  306 ;  acting  of,  ii.  184  ; 
social  character  of,  231 ;  iv.  116. 

Patapsco,  scenery  of  the,  iv.  149, 150, 167, 
174. 

Patterson,  Mrs.,  ii.  228. 

Paulding,  James  K.,  i.   35, 165, 166,  167, 

262,    269  ;    ii.    399,  403,  428  ;    iii.  46, 

127  ;  iv.  74,  200. 

compositions,  early  of,  i.  175,  299,  349. 

diverting   History    of  John  Bull  and 

Brother  Jonathan  by,  i.  285. 
Dutchman's  Fireside  by,  ii.  449. 
Irving,  an  admirer  of  tlie  writings  of, 

i.  261. 
Irving's  writings  noticed  by,  i.  239. 
Irving,  William,  noticed  by,  i.  67. 
Lay  of  the  Seothsh  Fiddle  by,  review- 
ed by  Irving,  i.  299. 
Lion  of  the  West  by,  ii.  449. 
New  York,  removes  to,  and  lives  with 

William  Irving,  i.  35, 175. 
Kemble,  Gertrude,  marrie?,  i.  168. 

Paulding,  Mrs.  J.  K.,  death  of,  iii.  167. 

Pawnee  Indians,  ii.  40,  43,  n. 

Payne,  John  Howard,  entertains  G.  F. 
Cooke,  iv.  242  ,  at  Drury  Lane  in 
1816,  i.  353  ,  his  occupations  in  1S23, 
ii.  167-184  ;  in  London  in  1830,  446  , 
Irving's  good  offices  for,  53,  54,  167- 
180  ;  references  to,  40,  41. 

Pedro,  W.  I.'s  Spanish  coachman,  iii. 
326,  364. 

Pedro  el  Ceremonioso,  King,  ii.  277. 

Peel,  Sir  Robert,  iii.  196  ,  letter  of,  on 
behalf  of  Wilkie,  ii.  276. 

Pelayo,  Chronicle  of,  iv.  15, 17. 

Pulayoand  the  Merchant's  Daughter,  iv. 
17. 

Pendleton,  Mr.,  of  Virginia,  iv.  174. 

Percival,  James  Gates,  poetry  of,  iv.  308. 

Perry-  Commodore  Oliver  H,  W.  I.'s  bi- 
ography of,  i.  299,  310. 

reschel,  Oscar,  his  History  of  the  Ago 
of  Discoveries,  iv.  247,  248. 

reschiera,  his  bu?t  of  Columbus,  iv.  94. 

Peter  the  Hermit,  iv.  101. 

Peters,  John  C,  M.  D.,  W.  I.'s  physi- 
cian, iv.  190,  249,  254,  262,  204,  267, 
268,  274,  276,  289,295,  301,305,311, 
327. 

Petrarch's  Laura,  the  tomb  of,  i.  76  ; 
iii.  360. 

Petrie,  George,  on  the  Irving  pedigree, 
i.  17, 18. 

"  Petronius  "  and  W.  I.,  i.  169. 

Petruchio,  Cooper  and  Hodgkinson  as, 
iv.  242. 

Phil.,  an  humble  friend  of  W.  I.,  iv.  124, 
125. 

Philadelphia,  i.  233,  235  ;  i.i.  59  ;  Fociety 
in,  etc.,  lS07-'10,i.  ISO.  195,  233,  248  ; 
punning  in,  ISO  ;  W.  I.'s  early 
friends  in,  167,  172,  183  ;  public  din- 
ner off'  red  to  W.  I.  in,  in  1832.  iii. 
24  ,  Philadelphia  Academy  of  Fine 
Arts,  i.  279. 

Philadelphia,  The  Stronger  in,  i.  95 

Philip  If.,  Prescott's,  W.  I.  on,  iv  -103, 
266,  271. 


INDEX. 


441 


Philippa,  Queen,  Queen  Victoria  as,  iii. 

201,  202. 
Philips,  Mr.,ii.  267. 
Philipse,  Captain,  scat  of,  ii.  426. 
Phillips,  Captain,  his  hospitality,  i.  254, 

285. 
Pichegru  hangs  himself,  i.  65. 
Pickwick  and  his  horse,  iii.  184. 
Pictures,    Allston's    instructions    how 

to  observe,  i.  130  ;  carried  off  by  the 

French,  iv.  96. 
Pierce,   President  Franklin,  iv.  132, 133, 

134, 139,  140. 
Pierrefond,  ruins  of,  iv.  28. 
Pilgrim's  Progress,  a  favorite  of  the  Ir- 
ving household,  i.  25. 
Pilot,  the,  by  Cooper,  W.  I.  on,  ii.  261. 
Pinos,  bridge  of,  ii.  287,  384. 
Pinzon,  Martin  Alonzo,  ii.  342. 
Pinzons,  the  descendants  of  the,  ii.  339. 
Pioneers,  the,  by  Cooper,  published  in 

London,  ii.  75. 
Pistol  firing  in  Batavia,  ii.  149. 
Plagiary,  Sir  Fretful,  iv.  208. 
Plaindealer,  the,  W.   I.  assailed  in,  iii. 

102. 
Planosa,  a  resort  for  pirates,  i.  95. 
Plattsburg,  iv.  157  ;   British  defeated  at, 

in  1814,  i.  313. 
Plays,  publication  of,  in  America  in  1817, 

i.375. 
Pleasures  of  Memory  by  Rogers,  ii.  87. 
Poe,  Edear  A.,  his  Raven,  iv.  275,  305. 
Poetry  by  W.  I.  i.,  34,  204  ;  ii.  85, 152. 
Poets  and  Poetry  of  America,  by  Gris- 

wold,  iii.  264. 
Poictiers,  iii.  215. 
Poinsett,  Joel  R.,  iii.  142. 
Political  quarrels  in  the  United  States, 

W.  I.  on,  i.  97. 
Politics,  European  and  American,  1830, 

ii.  452,  453,  455. 
Politics  in  the  United  States,  W.  I.  on, 

iii.  64,  120-123, 127. 
Policy,  generous,  the  best  for  nations,  ii. 

189. 
Polk,  President  James  K.,  iii.  391  ;   on 

the  Oregon  question,  380. 
Pomona,  one.  of  the  Orkneys,  Irvings  in, 

i.  17. 
Pope,  the,  in  1844,  iii.  370. 
Pope,  Alexander,  his  Rape  of  the  Lock, 

ii.  445. 
Porceaugnac,  Dr.,  by  Stuart  Newton,  ii. 

194. 
Porter,  David,  W.  I.'s  biography  of,  i. 

299,  306. 
Portraits,  new,  made  from  old,  iv.  95. 
Portraits  of  Irving  ■  by  Escacena,  ii.  379, 

Foy,  183  ;  Jarvis,  i.  229,  232  ;  Leslie, 

453  ;    ii.  28,  29  ;  Newton,  i.  453  ;  ii. 

28,  29  :  Vanderlyn,  i.  151  ;  Vogel.ii. 

135  ;  Wilkie,  311,  312,  344  ;  referred 

to,  231,  460. 
Portraits  of  Washington,  H.  T.  Tucker- 
man's  account  of  the,  iv.  281. 
Portugal,  Minister  of,  to  Spain,  ii.  365, 

366. 
Posada  de  la  Espada,  ii.  381. 

Vol.  IV.— 19* 


Posy  children,  iv.  27. 

Potter,  Bishop  Horatio,  iv.  329. 

Pourtales,  Count  de,  iii.  26,  27,  28,  29,  30, 
34,  40,  254. 

Powell,  Peter,  ii.  131,  438,  439,  485; 
his  waggery,  28,  29  ;  his  mimicry, 
30  ;  and  Leslie  at  housekeeping,  61, 
62. 

Prado,  the,  Madrid,  iii.  219,  227,  261,  284, 
320,  321,  373,  375,  377. 

Prague,  described,  ii.  126  ;  scenes  in, 
156  ;  society  in,  157. 

Prairies,  "Western,  iii.  38,  39. 

Prescott,  Colonel  William,  iv.  205,  n.  ' 

Prescott,   William   H.,  iii.  401  ;  iv.  124, 
146, 196. 
Bancroft's  United  States,  his  opinion 

of  the  battles  in,  iv.  196. 
death  of,  iv.  266,  271. 
Ferdinand  and  Isabella  by,  iii.    135 

139, 143. 
literary  immortality  of,  iv.  70. 
Mexico  by.    See  Mexico,  History  of 

the  Conquest  of. 
Philip  the  Second  by,  ii.  203,  208  ;  iv. 

266,  271. 
Sketch  Book,  his  copy  of,  iii.  152. 
Tales  of  the  Alhambra,  his  opinion  of, 

iii.  20. 
Washington's   Life,   by    Irving,    his 

opinion  of,  iv.  203,  232. 
works  of,  iv.  189. 

Prescott,  Mrs.  William  H.,  and  W.  I.'s 
Life  of  Washington,  iv.  232. 

President,  U.  S.  frigate,  captured,  i.  Ill, 
326. 

President's  levee,  iv.  127, 132. 

Preston,  William,  Minister  to  Spain,  iv. 
288. 

Preston,  William  C,  iii.  178, 185;  travels 
with  W.  I.  and  Peter  Irving,  1817, 
i.  368,  384,  3S5  ;  iv.  285,  28S  ;  on  nul- 
lification, iii.  44. 

Price,  Mr.,  ii.  134. 

Price,  "  King  Stephen,"  manager  of  the 
Park  Theatre,  New  York,  in  Lon- 
don in  1817,  i.  373,  and  in  1829,  ii. 
374,  416  ;  honesty  of,  483. 

Prince  of  Peace,  of  Spain,  iii.  220. 

Prince  Don  Enrique  of  Spain,  banish- 
ed, iii.  386. 

Princeton,  battle  of,  iv.  196. 

Prior,  Sir  James,  hi3  Life  of  Goldsmith, 
iv.  58,  59. 

Private  theatricals  at  Dresden,  ii.  140, 
141, 147. 

Privateers  encountered  by  W.  I.  in 
1804,  i.  95. 

Procter.  Mrs.,  at  Rogers's  breakfast,  iv. 
221. 

Progresistas,  the,  of  Spain,  iii.  317. 

Promptness  and  activity,  importance  of, 
ii.  221. 

Proserpine,  iv.  28. 

Publishers  and  authors,  Sir  W.  Scott  on, 
i.  442. 

Puento  de  Lope,  ii.  384. 

Punning,  propensity  for,  in  Philadel- 
phia, i.  180. 


442 


INDEX. 


Puritan's  Daughter,  the,  by  J.  K.  Paul- 
ding, iv.  201. 

Pursuit,  objects  of,  should  bo  worthy 
ones,  ii.  333. 

Putnam,  George  P.,  iii.  115  ,  iv.  192, 196, 
209,  248,  249,  266,  269,  281  :  publishes 
a  uniform  collective  edition  of  W. 
I.'s  works,  ii.  433  ;  iii.  68,  76  ;  iv.  38, 
40-65,  237  ;  W.  I.'s  commendations 
of  him,  70,  120,  121  ;  P.  M.  Irving's 
commendation  of  him,  237  ;  his  Re- 
collections of  W.  I.,  53  ;  publishes 
Homes  of  American  Authors.  91,  92, 
147,  149. 

Putnam,  General  Israel,  iv.  205,  n. 


Q 

Quarterly  Review  (London)  : 
Chronicles  of  the  Conquest  of  Gra- 
nada, noticed  in,  ii.  433  ;    iii.  265, 
267,  272-273. 
Ford,  Richard,  on,  W.  I.  in,  iv.  76. 
Irving's  contributions  to,  ii.   254,  346, 

347,  450,  470  ';  iii.  267,  271,  272,  273. 
Irving's  Lite  and  Letters  reviewed  in, 

iv.  215. 
Lions  of,  in  1817,  i.  372. 
Sketch  Book  reviewed  in,  ii.  49. 
United  States,  hostility  to,  displayed 
in,  ii.  224,  346,  347,  450  :  iii.  266. 
■     Year  in  Spain  reviewed  by  Irving  in, 

ii.  450,  470  ;  iii.  273. 
Queen  of  Spain,  death  of,  ii.  384. 
Queen  of  Spain.     See  Isabella  II. 
Queen  Mother   of   Spain.      See   Maria 

Christina. 
Quits,  a  novel,  iv.  310. 


R 


R ,  Mrs.,  at  Saratoga,  1852,  iv.  113, 

117. 

Railroad  travelling  in  England,  iii  194. 

Railroad  steam-whistle,  horrors  of  the, 
iv.  67,  74. 

Railroads,  aggressiveness  of,  iv.  37. 

Ralph  Ringwood,  iii.  69. 

Raris  Moor,  chronicle  by,  ii.  371. 

Raleigh,  Sir  Walter,  times  of,  iii.  99,100, 
101. 

Rambler  in  North  America,  the,  iii.  26. 

Randolph,  Lieutenant,  assaults  General 
Jackson,  iii.  51. 

Randolph,  Edmund,  W.  I.'s  character 
of,  iv.  282. 

Randolph,  John,  of  Roanoke,  foreman 
of  the  Grand  Jury  on  Burr's  trial 
in  1807,  i.  193  ;  on  non-intercourse 
in  1811,  273  ;  as  a  speaker,  273  ;  sits 
to  Jarvis,  275  ;  in  London,  in  1822, 
ii.  81  ;  1SS0,  439  ;  in  court  dress, 
440  ;  his  mission  to  Russia,  439  ; 
Duke  of  Sussex  calls  •'  Hokey  Po- 
key," 441  ;  "  out  of  his  beat,"  442 ; 
his  portrait  by  Jarvis,  i.  275,  276. 

Raven,  the,  by  E.  A.  Poe,  iv.  275,  305, 


Ready-money  Jack,  iv.  48. 

Recollections  of  the  Revolution,  iv.  277. 

Reformers  and  Anti-reformers  in  1831, 
ii.  455. 

Reginald  Dalton,  a  novel,  iv.  314. 

Reichstadt,  Duke  de,  described,  ii.  120. 

Rembrandt,  iv.  143. 

Remittance,  ship,  W.  I.  sails  in,  in  1806, 
to  New  York,  i.  163. 

Renwick,  Mr.,  iv.  128. 

Renwick,  James,  i.  254,  286,  290,  352  ;  ii. 
88  ;  travels  with  W.  I.  in  England, 
1812-'15,  i.  283, 336 ;  liberality  of,  348. 

Renwick,  Jane, "  The  Blue-eyed  Lassie  " 
of  Burns,  i.  401  ;  ii.  388  ;  removes  to 
New  York,  i.  266  ;  plants  a  slip  of 
ivy  from  Melrose  Abbey  at  Sunny- 
side,  267  ;  Memoir  of,  266. 

Retiro,  Madrid,  iii.  248,  344. 

Revere  House,  Boston,  iv.  166. 

Reveries  of  a  Bachelor.  See  Mitchell, 
Donald  G. 

Reviewers,  influence  of,  ii.  224. 

Revolution,  American,  i.  19  ;  iv.  196, 197, 
245. 

Revolution,  Recollections  of  the,  iv.  277. 

Revolutionists  of  Spam,  1844,  iii.  372. 

Reynolds's  Creek,  scenery  of,  iv.  150. 

Rhine,  scenery  of  the,  ii.  98, 102,  109, 112. 

Rhinelander,  Philip,  marries  Mary  Hoff- 
man, i.  250. 

Rhone,  scenery  of  the,  iii.  360. 

Rich,  O.,  American  Consul  at  Madrid,  ii. 
312,  313,  316,  327  ;  W.  I.  hires  apart- 
ments under  the  roof  of,  251  ;  his 
library,  252.  260. 

Richnrd  Cceur'  de  Lion,  captivity  of.  ii. 
121, 123. 

Richardson,  John,  Sir  W.  Scott  to,  on 
W.  I.,  i.  387. 

Richelieu,  Charles  Kemble  as,  iv.  250. 

Richmond,  W.  I.'s  impressions  of,  in 
1807,  i.  196,  200  ;  theatre  in,  destroy- 
ed by  fire,  265. 

Riesen,  Gebirge,  ii.  153. 

Riley,  Isaac,  W.  I.  translates  fur,  i.  219. 

Rincon,  Antonio,  a  Spanish  painter,  iv. 
96. 

Ripley,  George,  on  Irving's  Life  of  Gold- 
smith, iv.  54  ;  on  Mahomet  and  his 
Successors,  62. 

Rip  Van  Winkle,  stcry  of,  i.  242,  418 ; 
iii.  S7,  53,  54  ;  iv.  47  ;  Chambers's 
Cyclopaedia  on,  418  ;  Spanish  ver- 
sion of,  ii.  370. 

Rives,  William  C,  at  Paris  in  1830,  ii. 
435. 

Road  to  Ruin,  by  Holcroft,  iv.  122,  253. 

Rob  Roy,  publication  of,  i.  374,  378,  384. 

Robber  stories,  ii  189,  205. 

Robbers  in  Spain,  ii.  285,  302,  360,  4f0, 
411. 

Robert,  of  Sunnyside,  iv.  136,  153,  278, 
310. 

Robert  the  Devil,  ii.  483. 

Robertson,  James,  on  the  pedigree  of 
W.  I.,  i.  17. 

Robertson,  Dr.  William,  on  Columbus, 
ii.  313,  835. 


INDEX. 


443 


Robin  Hood  and  Sherwood  Forest,  Ii. 

468,  469. 
Robins,  killing  of,  iv.  243. 
Robinson  Crusoe  a  favorite  with  "W.  I., 

i,  32  ;  iv.  208. 
Robinsons,  family  of  the,  iii.  168. 
Rodes,  Rev.  C.  R.  Reaston,  W    I.  visits 

and  describes,  ii.  461,  462,  463,  466. 
Rodes,  Mrs.  C.  R.  R.,  ii.  463. 
Rodgers,  Rev.   Dr.,  of  New  York,  iv. 

313. 
Rodman,  Mrs.  John,  i.   126 ;    sickness 

and  death  of,  214,  218. 
Rogers,  Mr.,  brother  of  the  poet,  ii.  198, 

204. 
Rogers,  Samuel  : 
Americans,  his  hospitality  to,  iv.  91,  92. 
biography  of,  contemplated  by  "W.  I., 

ii.  203. 
breakfasts  of,  iv.  221,  320. 
Bryant's  poems  dedicated  to,  ii.  475, 

477  ;  iii.  105. 
establishment  of,  ii.  87. 
Halleck's  poems  praised  by,  iii.  116. 
Irving  and,  ii.  24  ;  iii.  196,  309. 
Irving's  Columbus,  his  hint  on  the 

sale  of,  ii.  251. 
London  invitations  criticized  by,  ii.  82. 
poetry  of,  ii.  87. 
story  teller,  as  a,  iit.  309. 
table  talk  of,  ii.  195, 196,  197,  198,  204, 
208. 
Romaine,  Benjamin,  schoolmaster  of  W. 
I.,  i.  28  ,  as  a  disciplinarian,  28,  33  , 
enters  trade,  36. 
Rome,  "W.  I.  at,  in  1805,  i.  129-141. 
Ronda  mountains,  ii.  304,  306,  308,  821, 

430. 
Rondout,  the,  iii.  169. 
Rosina,  Grisi  in,  iv.  181. 
Rossini,  Cyrus    in    Babylon  his  worst 

opera,  ii.  136. 
Rossiter,  the  artist,  iv.  300. 
Rotterdam,  French  commander  at,  in 

1805,  i.  154. 
Rouen,  iii.  204. 
Roulier,  the,  i.  170. 
Royal  Christening  and  the  Coronation, 

by  Leslie,  iii.  196. 
Royal  poet,  Leslie's  design  for,  ii.  61. 
Royal  Society  of  Literature  vote  medals 

to  W.  I.  and  Henry  Hallam,  ii.  429. 
Ruff,    Flemish,    introduction    of,   into 

Spain,  iv.  93,  95. 
Ruggles,  Samuel  B.  iii.  189. 
Rurnigny,  Mr.,  ii.  267. 
Rnmpf,  Mr.,  iii.  209. 
Rundell  and  Bridge,  ii.  440. 
Rural  Life   in  England,  article  in  the 
Sketch  Book,  i."421,  422,  430, 431 ;  iv. 
46. 
Russell,  Earl.    See  Russell,  Lord  John. 
Russell,  Lord  John,  "W.  1.  meets  with, 
1821,  ii.  34  ;  furnishes  a  letter  of  "W. 
I.  to  Moore,  206  ;  political  situation 
of,  in  1831,  455  ;  his  Don  Carlos,  183  ; 
references  to,  180, 181, 182,  209. 
Ryefcman,  Mrs.,  W.  I.  reside*  at  her 
house,  i.  281,  306. 


S 


8 ,  Miss  L ,  a  pianist,  iv.  110. 

S ,  Mr.,  an  old  acquaintance  turned 

up,  ii.  427. 

S ,  Mrs.,  iv.119,  126, 144. 

Saal,  the  River,  ii.  118. 
Sackett's  Harbor  threatened  by  the  Brit- 
ish in  1814,  i.  315  ;  W.  I.  employed 
on  the  defence  of,  315-320. 
Sad  Dogs  of  Salmagundi,  i.  167. 
SahagHm,  Padre,  iii.  139, 141. 
Saint  Basil,  monastery  of,  i.  135. 
Saint  Filian,  Bay  of,  iii.  359. 
Saint  George's  Chapel,  Beekman  street, 

W.  I.  baptized  in,  in  1783,  i.  26. 
Saint  Geronimo,  convent  of,  ii.  287. 
Saint  Gothard,  iii.  375. 
(Saint  Isidoro,    library  of  the   Jesuit's 

College  at,  ii.  277. 
Saint  Juan  de  Alfarachc,  convent  of, 

ii.  321,  367. 
Saint  Lawrence  River,  "W.  I.  visits  iu 
1803,  i.  55,  56,  60,  and  in  1853,  iv.  157, 
158. 
Saint  Mary's,  near  Cadiz,  "W.  I.  and  J. 
N.   Hall's  country  seat,  ii.  340,  348. 
Saint  Nicholas   Hotel,  New  York,  do- 
scribed,  iv.  1C3. 
Saint  Nicholas  Society,  anniversary  of, 

1S41,  iii.  174. 
Saint  Thomas  by  Turbaran,  ii.  311. 
Salar,  Marquis  of,  ii.  392. 
Salique  Law  in  Spain,  iii.  233. 
Salmagundi,  composition   and   publica- 
tion of,  opinions  on,  etc.,  i.  166,  167, 
175,  176-180,    184,  1S8,  194,  195,  209, 
210,  211,  213;  ii.  181  n.,  185,186,  202, 
203,  n.  ;  iii.  25  ;  Irving's  opinion  of, 
i.  211. 
Salmon,  M.,  Secretary  of  State  of  Spain, 

ii.  283,  337,  338. 
Salzburg  described,  ii.  117  ;  salt  mine  in, 

iv.  183. 
Salvardy,  Mr  ,  French  Minister  to  Spain, 
unsuccessful   embassy  of,  iii.  241- 
243. 
Salvator  Rosa,  landscapes  of,  ii.  286,  301  , 

iii.  238. 
Sampavo,  Dennis,  i.  306,  307,  308. 
Sancho'by  Leslie,  ii.  194,  223. 
Sancho  Panza  on  the  invention  of  sleep, 

i.  95. 
Sanders,  Anna,  grandmother  of  W.  I., 
emigrates  to  New  York,  and  dies 
there,  i.  19. 
Sanders,   John,  grandfather  of  W.    I., 
emigrates  to  New  York,  and  dies 
there,  i.  19. 
Sanders,  Julia,  iii.  180. 
Sanders,    Sarah,    marries  "William    Ir- 
ving, father  of  W.  I.,  i.  19. 
Santa  Cruz,  Marchioness,  iii.  352. 
Santa    Claus,    growing   incredulity    of 

children  respecting,  iv.  265. 
Saone,  scenery  of  the,  iii.  361. 
Sarasrossa,  Defence  of,  by  Wilkie,  11.  S09, 
S10. 


Ui 


INDEX. 


Saratpga,  battle  of,  iv.  109. 

Saratoga  Lake,  iv.  109. 

Saratoga  Springs,  iii.   52  ;  W.  I.  at,  in 

1852,  iv.  106-117,  124,  137  ;  and  in 

1853,  iv.  156,  157. 

Saunders,  General  Romulus  M.,  Minister 

to  Spain,  iii.  388,  390,  393. 
Sawmill  River,  iii.  171 ;  iv.  22. 
Saxburgh,  Count,  ii.  134. 
Saxony,   King  of,  ii.  132,  133,  149;  his 
chasse,  135,  139,  140, 145  ;  Queen  of, 
140,  150  j  royal  family  of,  132,  133  ; 
scenery  in,  126, 154. 
Schaghticoke,  New  York.  iii.  52. 
Scarlet  Letter,  the,  iv.  85,  86. 
Scheffer,  Ary,  his  Christus  Consolator, 

iv.  45. 
Schiller  quoted,  ii.  158  ;  his  Wallenstein, 
155  ;  character  of  the  works  of,  237. 
Schlemil,  Peter,  ii.  286. 
Schoellcncn,  iii.  375. 
Schuyler,  I)irck,  original  of,  iv.  82. 
Schuyler  and  Gates,  iv.  209. 
Scotland,  W.   I.'s  pedestrian   excursion 
In,  1S17,  i.   368 ;  antiquaries  of,   iv. 
258. 
Scolt,  Anne,  described  by  W.  I.,  i.  383. 
Scott,  Sophia,  described  by  W.  I.,  i.383, 
385 ;   W.  I.  presents  Bcott's  Poems 
to,  444  ;  the  Antiquary  her  favorite, 
iv.  261.     See  Lockbart,  Mrs.  Sophia. 
Scott,  Sir  Walter : 
Abbotsford  and,  visited  by  Irving,  i. 

381-385,  387. 
anecdotes  of,  i.  334. 
attack  on,  iii.  265,  266. 
authors  and  publishers,  his  comments 

on,  ii.  263. 
baronetcy  of,  i.  451. 
Brevoort,  Henry,  and,  i.  240,  G02. 
Campbell  and,  i.  335,  37S. 
composition,  his  habits  of,  iv.  320. 
conversation  of,  iv.  260. 
Demonology,  his  Letters  on,  iv.  36. 
editorship  ofl'ered  to  Irving,  by,  i.  439  ; 

iii.  272. 
George  IV. ,  coronation  of,  and,  j.  52. 
host,  as  a,  iv.  261. 
humor  of,  iv.  261. 
Irving  and,  i.  387  ;  ii.  424,  458, 459. 
Irving  describes,  i.  456 ;  ii.  23.    See 

Abbotsford. 
Ivanhoe  by,  i.  122. 
Jeffrey  and,  i.  303. 
Knickerbocker  and,  i.  439,  300. 
Lady  of  the  Lake  by,  i.  253,  254. 
Leslie  and,  i.  451  ;  ii.  223. 
likeness  of,  i.  386. 
Longfellow  and,  ii.  267. 
Marmion  by,  i.  377. 
Napoleon,  Life  of,  by,  i.  281. 
O' Nei I'B  acting,  his  comments  on,  i.  345. 
painters  beset,  i.  223. 
Poems  of,  in  America,  i.  444. 
Rob  Roy  and,  i .  378. 
Sketch   Book  and,  i.  438,440,442,443, 

445,  460  ;  ii.  19-24. 
style  of,  i.  166. 
Waverley  Novels  and,  i.  374;  ii.  375. 


Scott,  Sir  Walter,  and  his  Contempora- 
ries, by  Faed,  iv.  322. 

Scott,  Lady,  wife  of  Sir  Walter,  do- 
scribed  by  W.  I.,  i.  383. 

Scott,  Walter,  jr.,  described  by  W.  I.,  i. 
383;  ii.  133,134. 

Screw  Dock  Company,  New  York,  iii. 
397,  401. 

Secret  Tribunal  of  Germany,  ii.  Ill  ;  iv. 
182. 

Secretary  of  the  Navy,  W.  I.  declines 
being,  iii.  126,  127. 

Sedgwick,  Miss  C.  M.,  her  biography  of 
Lucretia  Davidson,  iii.  157. 

Seguras,  Valley  of  the,  ii.  410. 

Select  Reviews  edited  by  W.  I.,  i.  286, 
290,  291,  294,  298. 

Semiramide,  Grisi  in,  iv.  181. 

Seneca,  the  Medea  of,  iv.  247,  248. 

Seine.    See  Garonne. 

Serrania,  Spain,  li.  306. 

Serrano,  General,  Spanish  Minister  of 
War,  an  ingrate,  iii.  301. 

Sestri,  W.  I.  at,  in  1814,  i.  89,  93. 

Seton,  Mrs.,  sudden  death  of,  i.  191. 

Seville  described,  ii.  309,  317,  320,  321, 
330, 332  ;  W.  I.'s  residence,  in  1828-,9, 
310  ;  iv.  143  ;  Holy  Week  in,  ii.  872  ; 
Royal  Exchange  of,  iv.  96  ;  women 
of,  332. 

Seymour,  Lord  Webb,  i.  380. 

Shaftesbury  Lady,  at  Genoa  in  1804  ; 
her  hospitality  to  W.  I.,  i.  89. 

Shakspeare  and  Stratford-on-Avon,  ii. 
46S  ,  iv.  47  ;  his  As  You  Like  It, 
272  ;  his  plays,  313  -on  the  stage,  40. 

Shakspeare,  Hackett's  Notes  and  Criti- 
cisms on,  iv.  39. 

Shakspeare  brought  up  for  deer  steal- 
ing, by  Leslie,  ii.  55,  146. 

Shaler,  Captain,  predicts  that  W.  I. 
will  never  finish  his  first  voyage  to 
Europe  in  1804,  i.  63. 

Shapinsha,  one  of  the  Orkneys,  birth- 
place of  father  of  W.  I.,  i.  13,  17  ; 
iv.  223. 

Shaving,  soothing  effect  of,  iv.  317,  321.  ■ 

Shawangunk  Mountains,  iii.  169. 

"  She  asked  of  each  wave,"  iv.  296. 

"  She  had  no  Heart,"  by  Percival,  iv. 
308. 

Sheldon,  Mrs.,  iii.  246. 

Shelley,  in  the  Wanderer,  ii.  183. 

Shenandoah  valley,  iv.  150, 167,  174. 

Sheridan,  R.  B.,  Life  of,  by  Moore,  ii. 
208,  281,  376. 

Sherwood  Forest  and  Robin  Hood,  ii. 
468. 

Shirley,  Bishop,  ii.  87. 

Shoenberg,  Count,  ii.  110. 

Shrubbery,  the,  iii.  203. 

Siddons,  Mrs.,  iii.  306 ;  her  acting  in 
1805,  i.  159 ,  her  Desdemona,  iv. 
241  ;  her  reading  of  Constance,  ii. 
82;  social  character  of,  iv.  116', 
"made  to  weep"  by  the  Sketch 
Book  and  Bracebridge  Hall,  i.  160, 
161 ;  described  by  W.  I.,  ii.  82 ;  de- 
scribed by  Peter  Irving,  i.  304. 


INDEX. 


445 


Sidesbottom,  Mrs.,  iv.  313. 

Sierra  Morena,  scenery  of,  ii.  286,  2S7. 

Sierra  Nevada  described,  ii.  287. 

Sinbad  the  Bailor,  a  favorite  with  W.  I., 
i.  32. 

Skcneborough,  W.  I.  at,  in  1808,  i.  216, 
217. 

Sketch  Book,  composition,  publication 
of,  opinions  on,  etc.,  i.  134,161,  231, 
241,  299,  360,  370,  408,  418,  463  ;  ii.  24, 
25,  48,  49,  14S,  178,  1S5,  191,  266, 
280  n.,  336,  337  ;  ii.  19,  54,  110,  112, 
197,  272,  341,  398;  iv.  46,  49,  51,  69, 
188,  200,  217,  309,  315  ;  ascribed  to 
General  Washington,  i.  134 ;  as- 
cribed to  Scott,  ii.  19,  21,  22;  Byron 
on,  25 ;  Jeffrey  on,  19 ;  Leslie  on,  i. 
452  ;  Leslie's  deeisti  s  for,  ii.  61,  64  ; 
Lockhart  on,  i.  451,  461 ;  Sir  J.  Mac- 
kintosh's and  Pre6cott's  copy.  iii. 
152  ;  Scott  on,  i.  442,  443,  450 ;  Mrs. 
Siddons  "made  to  weep"  by,  160; 
translations  of,  into  French,  German, 
and  Spanish,  452  ;  ii.  117,  401. 

Sketches  more  difficult  of  composition 
than  novels,  ii.  227. 

Sketches  in  Paris  in  1825,  iii.  153  ,  iv.  87. 

Slavery  in  New  York  in  1S00,  i.  41  ;  in 
the  United  States,  iv.  297-300. 

Sleep,  blessings  of,  i.  95. 

Sleepy  Hollow,  its  recesses  explored  by 
W.  I.  in  1798,  i.  39  ;  made  almost 
classical,  ii.  239 ;  Chambers's  Cyclo- 
paedia on,  i.  418  ,  references  to,  iii. 
158,  162,  209,  246,  252 ;  iv.  251,  319, 
330. 

Sleepy  ITollow  Church,  iii.  230  ;  iv.  161. 

Slideil,  Lieut.  A.  S.,  robbery  of,  ii.  254  ; 
on  the  route  of  CoJumbue,  254  ;  his 
Year  in  Spain,  450, 470  ;  iv.  312  ,  re- 
view of,  by  W.  I.,  ii.  254 ;  iii.  267. 

Slideil,  John,  sen.,  ii.  470. 

Smith,  Miss,  of  Long  Island,  i.  264. 

Smith,  Horace,  described,  ii.  182. 

Smith,  John  Adams,  ii.  265. 

Smith,  Rev.  Sydney,  wit  of,  ii.  442. 

Smith,  W.  Prescott,  of  the  Baltimore 
and  Ohio  R.  B.  Co.,  iv.  283. 

Smithsonian  Institution,  iv.  127. 

S.eyd,  Honora,  ii.  413. 

Sneyd,  Ralph,  a  fellow  travelfer  of  W. 
I.'s,  ii.  405,  408  ;   death  of,  413. 

Soane,  General,  iii.  283,  286,  289,  290. 

Society,  worldly,  unsatisfactory  nature 
of,  iii.  209,  211,  214. 

Solferino,  battle  of,  iv.  305. 

Soils  on  Mexico,  iii.  138. 

Solomon  in  all  his  glory,  iii  337. 

Somerset,  Duke  of~  ii.  451. 

Somnambula,  Alboni  in,  iv.  122. 

Sontag,  Mademoiselle,  in  1822,  ii.  126  ;  in 
1852,  iv.  118,  122  ;  as  the  Daughter 
of  the  Regiment,  123. 

Sophia,  of  Sunnyside,  iv.  78. 

Sophy  Sparkle  of  Salmagundi,  who  ? 
i.  180. 

Sotheby,  Mr.,  ii.  267T 

South  Carolina,  nullification  in,  in  1832. 
iii.  21,44,  45,  48;  iv.  286. 


Southern  Literary  Messenger,  attack  in, 

on  W.  I.,  iii.  263,  264,  268. 
Southev,  Robert,  his  Liie  of  "Wesley,  iv. 

36. 
Spam  : 
bull  fights  in,  iv.  261. 
costume  in,  iv.  93. 
France  and,  iii.  304. 
Ferdinand  VII.  and.    See  General  In- 
dex. 
Irving  Minister  to,  iii.  176, 177, 178. 
literature,  old,  of,  ii.  236,  237,  277. 
Moors  expelled  from,  ii.  317. 
Moslem  empire  in,  iv.  15. 
political  contests  in,  in  1842-6,  iii.  224, 
231-244, 251, 259,  278-302. 316-319, 321- 
331,  343,  352,  353,  364,  371,  383-388. 
portraits  of  primates  of,  iv  95. 
Princess  of.    See  Isabella  II.,  in  Gen. 

cral  Index. 
Queen  of,  ii.  123.  See  al60  Isabella  II. ; 
Maria  Christina,  in  General  Index, 
robbers  in,  ii.  410,  411. 
scenery  of,  ii.  412. 

travels  in,  by  Irving,  ii.  284-413.    See 
Spanish. 
Spain,  A  Year  in.    See  Slideil,  Lieuten- 
ant, A.  S. 
Spain,  Chronicles  of  the  Moorish  dom- 
ii  ation  in,  by  W.  I.,  in  MS.,  iii. 
372 ;  iv.  278. 
Spanish  beauty,  a,  described,  iii.  358. 
"  Spanish  Sketch  Book,"  iii.  20. 
Spanish  language,  characteristics  of,  ii. 

256. 
Spanish  women,  beauty  of,  ii.  832;  iii. 

358. 
Sparkle,  Sophy,  iii.  25. 
Sparks,  Jared,  his  Writirgs  of  "Wash- 
ington, ii.  335;  iv.  133, 134, 146. 
Sparrowgrass  Papers,  the,  iv.  300. 
Specimens  of  the  Poets,  by  T.  Campbell, 

i.  305. 
Spectator,  London,  on  "Woifert's  Roost, 

iv.  187. 
Spectral  visitations,  W.   I.  on,  ii.  359, 

360. 
Speculation,  a  comedy,  Jefferson  acts  in, 

i.  35. 
Speculations  in  land,  iii.  122, 159. 
Spencer,  Earl,  W.  I.  at  his  seat,  ii  24. 
Spencer,  Lady,  W.  I.  dine  s  with,  ii.  82. 
Spencer,  Rev.  James  Seldcn,  iv.  324, 330. 
Spencer,  William  Robert,  ii.  195. 
Spirits  of  the  departed,  iv.  324. 
Spiritualism,  iv.  307. 
Sportsman's  tales,  ii.  189. 
Sprague,  Mr.,  ii.  307. 
Spy,  the,  by  Cooper,  publication  of,  in 

England,  ii.  73. 
Stael,  Madame  de,  W.  I.  meets,  in  1805, 

i.  136. 
Stafford,  Marquis  of,  i.  S9S. 
Stalker,  Mr..,  ii.  315. 
Stanhope,  Hon.  Mr.,  ii.  269. 
Stanhope,  Fitzroy,  de  Irop,  ii.  210. 
Starkeys,  W.  I.  visits  the,  ii.  200. 
State  Department,  W.  I.'s  researches  in, 
in  1853,  iv.  122, 126, 128, 129, 130, 146. 


446 


INDEX. 


Steam  travelling,  iv.  244. 

Steamboats  on  the  Garonne  and  Seine, 
ii.  15  ;  Peter  Irving's  agency  in,  15. 

Sterne.    See  Triotram  Shandy. 

Stevens,  John  Austin,  President  of  the 
B:ink  of  Commerce,  New  York,  iv. 
107,  109. 

Stewart,  Dugald,  i.  379,  3S0. 

Stoft'regen,  Mr.,  Secretary  of  the  Russian 
Embassy,  travels  with  W.  I.  in 
Spain,  in  1828,  ii.  284,  285,  291,  300, 
303,  304,  317,  323. 

Storm,  Hall,  American  Vice-Consul  at 
Genoa,  i.  81,  83,  84,  87,  88,  125, 198. 

Storrow,  Miss  Gaga,  iv.  30. 

Storrow,  Miss  Kate,  iii.  282,  305,  306, 344, 
376  ;  iv.  26,  183.    See  Letters. 

Storrow,  Mr.,  ii.  180  ;  iii.  197,  208,  282, 
344  ;   iv.  100,  140, 162,  184,  239,  240. 

Storrow,  Samuel,  ii.  231. 

Storrow,  Miss  Sarah,  iv.  162. 

Storrow,  Mrs.  Sarah,  niece  of  W.  I.,  ii. 
460;  iii.  160,  197,  204,  208,  211,304, 
346,  361,  38o  ;  iv.  133.     See  Letters. 

Storrow,  Miss  Tutu,  iv.  27,  30. 

Story,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  ii.  60. 

Story,  Mrs.,  on  W.  I.  ii.  107. 

Story  telling  to  children,  ii.  379. 

Stout  Gentleman  in  Bracebridge  Hall,ii. 
171;  iv.  48  ;  Leslie's  account  of,  ii. 
55,  56  ;  where  finished,  57  ;  moral  of, 
57. 

Stowe,  Mrs.  H.  B.,  her  Minister's  Woo- 
ing, iv.  301. 

Strain,  Lieutenant,  iv.  191. 

Strange,  Sir  Robert,  a  descendant  of  the 
Irvines  of  the  Orkneys,  Memoirs  of, 
i.  7. 

Strange  Stories,  ii.  201,  212. 

Stranger  in  Philadelphia,  i.  195. 

Strasbourg  described,  ii.  113. 

Stratford-on-Avon,  W.  I.'s  second  visit 
to,  1832,  ii.  466 ;  W.  I.  on,  iv.  47. 

Strobel,  Mr.,  ii.  243. 

Strong,  Captain,  W.  I.  sails  with,  in  1804, 
his  character,  i.  88,  94,  102, 103. 

Stuart,  Gilbert,  his  nephew  Stuart  New- 
ton, i.  406.    See  Newton,  Stuart. 

Student  of  S.damanca,  ii.  55. 

Study,  importance  of  habits  of,  ii.  220, 
235. 

Stuy vesant,  Peter,  iv.  186 ;  his  voyage 
up  the  Hudson,  i.  236. 

Suabia,  ii.  112. 

Sub  sole  sub  umbra  virens,  iii.  205. 

Sub-treasury  scheme,  iii.  123. 

Sullivan,  Kichard,  iv.  205. 

Sullivan,  William,  iv.  205. 

Sully,  Thomas,  his  portrait  of  Cooke,  i. 
278. 

Sumner,  Albert,  iii.  183. 

Sumner,  George,  intelligent  and  con- 
versable, iii.  286  ;  European  experi-. 
ence  of,  iv.  119 ;  visits  Sunnyside, 
119,  308. 

Sun,  vivifying  effects  of  the,  iii.  155. 

Sunnyside  negotiated  for,  iii.  30  ;  pur- 
chased, 73  ;  a  slip  of  ivy  from  Mel- 
rose planted  at,  i.  267  ;  visited  by 


Louis  Napoleon  (Napoleon*  III.), 
1837,  iii.  116,  117  ;  iv.  99,  138,  303  ; 
railroad  runs  by,  37,  67  ;  references 
to,  iii.  73,  75,  77,  79,  80,  82,  83,  89,  90, 
91,  92,  94,  98,  113,  118,  126,  128,  129, 
131,  154,  160,  162,  172,  174,  177,  179, 
180,  205,  208,  209,  211,  212,  230,  245, 
246,  247,  255,  270,  275,  276,  280,  310, 
313,  323,  324,  345,  367,  378,  394,  395, 
397,  399,  400,  402  ;  iv.  18,  23,  24, 87, 39, 
42,  67,  77,  86,  87,  101,  106,  107,  128, 
129,  131,  132,  135,  136,  140,  142,  145, 
151,  152,  160,  168,  171,  172,  173,  185, 
195,  200,  201,  202,  205,  209,  219,  231, 
240,  250,  251,  252,  254,  262,  263,  278, 
308,  315,  318,  324  ;  in  mourning,  329, 
332. 

Superior,  United  States  frigate,  described 
by  W.  I.,  i.  319. 

Surgeons,  benediction  on,  iii.  341. 

Sussex,  Duke  of,  W.  I.  dines  with,  ii. 
441;  calls  John  Randolph  "Hokey 
Pokey,''  ii.  441 ;  visits  Newstead 
Abbey,  469. 

Swain,  William,  of  New  Bedford,  iv.  84. 

Swartwout,  Major  Samuel,  Governor 
Tompkins's  advice  to,  i.  325. 

Swearing  in  New  York  in  early  times, 
iv.  306. 

Switzerland,  travel  in,  iii.  375. 

Swords,  Thomas,  "  oldest  bookseller  in 
New  York"  in  1837,  iii.  115. 

Sybil,  tableau  of  the,  ii.  276. 

Sydenham,  Campbell's  residence  at,  i. 
303,  324,  371. 

Syracuse,  Sicily,  W.  I.  at,  in  1804,  i.  107, 
113  ;  the  Ear  of  Dionysius  at,  108. 

Syracuse,  New  York,  iv.  158. 


T ,  Mr.,  of  Ohio,  iv.  244. 

Tabard  Inn,  Southwark,  i.  297. 

Table  moving,  iv.  130,  131. 

Tableaux  vivant  at  Dresden,  ii.  148;  at 
Madrid,  275,  276, 296 ;  Raphael's,  296. 

Taffy,  a  dog  of  Sunnyside,  iv.  136. 

Talbot  Inn,  London,  i.  297. 

Talent,  well  disciplined,  sure  of  its  re- 
ward, ii.  221. 

Tales,  short,  more  difficult  of  composi- 
tion than  novels,  ii.  227. 

Tales  of  the  Alhambra.  See  Alhambra, 
Tales  of  the. 

Tales  of  a  Traveller,  composition  and 
publication  of,  opinions  on,  etc.,  ii. 
50,  100,  179, 185,  187. 188, 189, 190, 191, 
192,  194,  201,  202,  205,  206,  208,  209, 
212,  213,  214,  217,  218,  224,  226,  228, 
280  n.,  336,  337  ;  iii.  Ill,  396  ;  iv.  50, 
188;  sold  to  Murray  for  1,500  guin- 
eas, ii.  191,  206  ;  two  French  transla- 
tions of,  228 ;  author's  estimate  of, 
214,  226. 

Talleyrand,  Minister  to  England,  ii.  436. 

Talma  described,  i.|tfl ;  iv.  116  ;  acting 
of,  ii.  182  ;  Hamlet  by,  i.  43  ;  announ- 
ces the  death  of  Napoleon,  51 ;  on 


INDEX. 


447 


the  French,  42  ;  ii.  179  ;  on  the  Eng- 
lish, 179  ;  recollects  Franklin,  179. 
Tangiers,  ii.  379. 
Tappan,  Mr.,  ii.  28. 
Tampan  Sea,  iii.  95,  98,  154,  315,  344  ;  iv. 

25, 195. 
Tariff,  the  compromise,  1833,  iii.  46,  48. 
Tarrvtown,  near  New  York,  i.  448;  iii. 

28,  246,  256, 393  ,  improvements  near, 

153,  154 ;  society,  154. 
Tarrvtown,  Christ   Church  at,  iv.  264, 

311,  324,  325,  329,  332. 
Tasso'a  Jerusalem,  MS.  of,  ii.  125. 
Tautphoens,  the  Baroness,  works  of,  iv. 

310. 
"  Taylor,  Billy,"  alias  J.  K.  Paulding,  i. 

269. 
Taylor,  Rev.  Dr.,  of  Grace  Church,  New 

"  Tork,  iv.  329. 
Taylor,  Miss,  i.  295. 
Taylor,  General  Zachary,  his  success  in 

Mexico,  iii.  388,  389  ;  death  of,  iv.  73. 
Tea,  projected  dissertation  on,  i.  170. 
Teba,  Count  de,  iv.  133, 134. 
Terino.  valley  of  the,  iii.  375. 
Tell,  William,  explo.ts  of,  iii.  375. 
Tennessee  River,  iv.  172. 
Termini,  W.  I.  at,  in  18u4,  i.  119. 
Teutan,  ii.  379. 

Texas,  annexation  of,  iii.  355,  388. 
Tezier,  M.,  translates  Knickerbocker  into 

French,  i.  262. 
Thackeray,  W.  M.,  iv.  172  ,  in  the  United 

8tates  in  1853,  124,  130, 131. 
The  Contented  Man,  iii.  99,  n. 
The  Happy  Man,  iii,  99  n. 
The  Shrubbery.    See  Shrubbery,  the. 
The  Wonder.    See  Wonder,  the. 
Theatre  in  New  York  in  1858,  iv.  253. 
Thomas,  of  Sunnyside,  iv.  136. 
Thomas  the  Rhymer,  haunts  of,  i.  381. 
Thomas,  Moses,  of  Philadelphia,  pub- 
lisher, i.  326,  369,  375,  384,  396,  408, 

429  ;  ii.  72  ;  iv.  197, 199.    See  Letters. 
Thomond,  Lady,  ii.  189. 
Thorn,  Colonel  Herman,  his  grand  fete 

at  Paris  in  1842,  iii.  209. 
Thornton,  Colonel,  on  Andrew  Jackson 

at  New  Orleans,  ii.  188,  231. 
Thousand  Islands  of  the  St.  Lawrence, 

iv.  158. 
Three  Weeks  after  Marriage,  played  in 

Dresden,  ii.  141, 147. 
Threescore  and  ten,  thoughts  on,  iv.  142, 

144. 
Thrceg's  Neck,  iii.  248. 
Thucydides,  Goeller's  German   edition 

of,  iv.  42. 
Thumb,  General  Tom,  iii.  376. 
Tia,  the,  of  the  Alhambra,  ii.  385.  394. 
Ticknor,  Georee,  iv.  124  ;  with  W.  I.  in 

London  in  1818,  iv.  68  ;  \V.  I.  on  his 

History  of   Spanish  Literature,  69. 

See  Letters. 
Ticonderoga,  iv.  108.  209. 
Tillary,  Doctor,  i.  287. 
Tillietudiem,  iv.  99. 
Tilton,  Theodore,  visits   Sunnyside  in 

1S59,  iv.  318. 


,;  Time  of  Unexampled  Prosperity,"  iii- 
152. 

Times,  the  London,  notice  in,  of  the 
Life  of  Columbus,  ii.  312. 

Toby,  a  dog  of  Sui.mside,  iv.  78. 

Toledo,  Onio,  iii.  88,  60,  91,  98,  129,  401. 

Toledo,  Spain,  visit  to,  ii.  270 ;  cathedral 
of,  iv.  95. 

Tom  Tug,  ii.  446. 

Tomlinson,  Mr.,  ii.  284. 

Tompkins,  Governor  Daniel  D.,  appoints 
W.  I.  his  Aid  and  Military  Secre- 
tary, i.  312 ;  his  exped.tions  to  Al- 
bany in  1814,  313,  324  ;  too  easy  of 
access,  322";  his  equestrian  mis- 
chance, 324 ;  his  advice  to  Major 
Swartwout,  325. 

Tony,  a  dog  of  Sunnyside,  iv.  136. 

Touneins,  France,  W.  I.  at,  in  1804,  i. 
70  ;  iii.  379,  and  in  1845,  i.  71. 

"  Too  late  1  stayed,"  by  Spencer,  ii.  195. 

Torlonia,  the  banker,  his  hospitality,  i. 
133. 

Tour  on  the  Prairies,  iii.  229  ;  iv.  51 ; 
publication  and  reception  of,  iii.  64, 
65,  66,  67,  68,  73,  107  ;  review  of,  by 
Edward  Everett,  66. 

Touraire,  W.  I.  visits,  iv.  223. 

Tours.  France,  iii.  215. 

Town' life,  unsatisfactory  nature  of,  ii. 
329. 

Townshend,  Mr.,  described,  i.  379. 

Trafalgar,  Nelson's  victory  at,  i.  161. 

Travellers,  American,  iv.  184. 

Travels,  books  of,  iv.  257. 

Trent,  angling  on  the,iv.  31. 

Trenton  Falls,  beauty  of,  iii.  31. 

Tribune,  the  New  York,  iv.  54. 

Tripoli,  pirates  of,  i.  95  ;  American  offi- 
cers prisoners  at,  261. 

Tristram  Shandy,  scene  from,  by  Leslie, 
ii.  485. 

Trotter,  Mr.,  ii.  133. 

Truffi,  prima  donna,  iv.  34. 

Tuckerman,  Henry  T.,  iv.  307  ;  his  Bio- 
graphical Essays,  229  ;  his  Portraits 
of  Washinaton,  281  ;  on  his  sketch 
ofW.  I.,  91,147;  on  Cooper,  313; 
on  a  new  edition  of  W.  I. 's  works, 
42 ;  on  W.  I.'s  Life  of  Washington, 
206,  291.     See  Letters. 

Tuileries,  Paris,  iv.  27. 

Turkish  Ambassador  to  Spain,  iii.  348. 

Turreau,  General,  W.  I.  dines  with,  in 
1811,  i.  268. 

Tyler,  John,  President  of  the  United 
States,  iii.  178, 181,  186,  219,  220,  345, 
349,  384,  388  ;  and  the  annexation  of 
Texns,  iii.  355. 

Tyler,  Mrs.  Robert,  daughter  of  Thomas 
A.  Cooper,  i.  180. 


U 


Udal  laws  on  the  division  of  lands,  i.  18. 
Ulm,  ii.  115. 

Uncle  Toby  and  the  Widow  Wadman 
by  Leslie,  ii.  415,  422. 


448 


INDEX. 


Union  of  the  State?,  "W.  I.  doubts  the 
long  existence  of,  in  1S33,  iii.  46. 

United  States,  advantages  of,  ii.  221,  455, 
490  ;  and  Algiers,  war  between,  in 
lbl5,  i.  327  ;  and  Great  Britain,  -war 
between,  in  1812-'14,  i.  284,  292.  296, 
311-323  ;  and  Mexico,  war  between, 
1846,  iii.  388;  political  abuses  in,  ii. 
455  :  political  quarrel*  in,  i.  91  ;  His- 
tory of,  projected  by  W.  I.,  ii.  424. 

United  Siates  Bank.  See  Bank  of  the 
United  States. 

United  States  Military  Academy,  iii.  27, 
47  ;  iv.  294. 

Unknown  Gentleman,  ii.  171. 

Untersberg,  legend  of,  ii.  119  ;  iv.  183. 

Uriel,  by  Allston,  i.  398,  399. 

Usse,  chateau  of,  ii.  213  ;  iv.  224. 

Utica,  New  York,  in  1803,  i.  48. 


Vail,  Mr.,  Minister  to  Spain,  iii.  205,  213, 
216,  217,  220,  221. 

Valdevielso,  Mr.,  Mexican  Minister,  iii. 
326,  327,  329. 

Valencia,  ii.  411. 

Valenciennes,  siege  of,  reenacted  by 
W.  I.  and  John  Irving,  i.  31-32. 

Valverde,  Marchioness  of,  iii.  296. 

Van  Alen,  Congressman,  iv.  82. 

Van  Antwerp,  General  F.  P.,  of  Iowa, 
iv.  294,  295. 

Van  Bibber,  as  a  letter  writer,  iii.  161, 

Van  Buret",  Martin,  ii.  397  ;  resigns  the 
office  of  Secretary  of  State,  and  ap- 
pointed Minister  to  London,  454; 
arrives  in  London,  457;  described 
by  W.  I.,  458,  482  ;  his  tour  with 
\V.  I.,  1832, 465-467  ;  rejected  1  y  the 
Senate,  480,  481,  4S2,  485  ,  his  excur- 
sion w.th  "W.  I.,  1833,  iii.  56  ;  his 
Administration  as  Presrdent,  119- 
123  ;  offers  the  secretaryship  of  war 
to  W.  I.,  126  ;  his  residence  at  Kin- 
derhook,  i.  227. 

Van  Buren,  Mr.,  son  of  Martin  Van 
Biiren,  ii.  465. 

Van  Ness,  John  P  ,  W.  I.  visits,  in  1807, 
i.  200,  and  in  1811,  203. 

Van  Ness,  Mrs.  John  P.,  described,  i. 
263. 

Van  Ness,  Judge  "William  P.,  W.  I. 
visits,  in  1809,  i.  227  ;  iv.  81. 

Van  Nest,  Dominie,  iv.  81. 

Van  Tassel,  Jacob,  iv.  186. 

Van  Tromp,  castle  of,  i.  333. 

Van  Wart,  George,  ii.  59,  63. 

Van  Wart.  Heiry,  marries  "W.  L's 
youngest  sister,  1806,  i.  233  ;  res:des 
in  E'eland,  233  ;  references  to,  333, 
S46.  348,  359,  395,  401,  44S  ,  ii.  55,  57, 
58,  437  ;  iii.  347  ;  iv.  19,  22,  100.  See 
L"tters. 

Van  Wart,  Henrv,  jr.,  ii.  434. 

Van  Wart,  Irvine,  ii.  189, 190,  437,  460  ; 
iv.  20,  248.    See  Letters. 

Van  Wart,  Mrs.  Sarah,  youngest  sister 


of  "W.  I.,  i.  233,  400,  401 ;  ii.  S5, 183  ; 
iii.  203,  361.    See  Letters. 

Van  Winkle,  C.  8.,  prints  the  Sketch 
Book,  i.  416,  432. 

Vanderlyn,  the  painter,  "W.  I.  meets 
with,  in  Pam,  in  1805,  i.  147,  148  ; 
portrait  of  W.  I.  ly,  151. 

Vandermoere,  John  Josse,  W.  L's  valet, 
i.  141, 145. 

Vaney,  the  dog,  iii.  378. 

Vasco  Nunez,  ii.  343. 

Vaudause,  W.  I.  desires  to  visit,  i.  70. 

Vega,  the,  ii.  383. 

Vehm  Gericht,  dungeons  of,  ii.  Ill ;  iv. 
182. 

Venice,  iv.  223. 

Veraguas,  Duke  of,  a  descendant  of  Co- 
lumbus, iv.  94. 

Verplanck,  Gulian  C.  : 
Analcctic  Magazine  contributed  to,  by, 

i.  299. 
Bryant's  Poems  and,  ii.  473. 
Copyright  Bill  of.  ii.  449. 
dinner  offered  to  W.  I.  bv,  and  others, 

iii.  189. 
European  tour  of,  1817,  i.  375,  SS9. 
Irving  on  Discourse  of,  1818.  i.  241,  242. 
Knickerbocker's  New  York  and,  i. 

240,  241,  242  ;  iv.  18. 
Tariff  Bill  aid,  iii  46. 

Versailles,  iii.  £03,  304. 

Vervei  t,  by  M.  Greseet,  ii.  183. 

Vesuvius  seen  by  W.  I.  in  1805,  i.  124, 
125,  128. 

Victoria,  Duchess  of,  iii.  2S0,  288  ;  great 
in  adversity,  300,  301. 

Victoria,  Duke  of,  iii.  220.  See  Espar- 
tero. 

Victoria,  Queen,  described,  iii.  196  ;  fan- 
cy ball  of,  201  ;  as  Queen  Philippa, 
£01,  202  ;  education  of  her  daughters, 
ii.  19  ,  her  nautical  vagaries,  iii.  309. 

Vienna  described,  ii.  120, 124. 

Villamil,  ii.  182. 

Vilzthurm,  Count,  ii.  134. 

Vintage  in  Germany,  ii  105, 113. 

Vir.ton.  Rev.  Francis  II.,  iv.  £29. 

Virgin  Tale,  ii.  232. 

Virginia  in  1833,  iii.  51  ;  "W.  I  on,  iv. 
145,  150  ;  "Washington  on  slavery  in, 
298. 

Virginians,  manners  of,  iii.  99,  100,  101. 

Vittoria,  Spain,  conspiracy  in,  in  1844, 
iii.  372. 

Vixen,  U.  S.  Steamer,  iv.  131. 

Voge),  portrait  of  "W.  I.  by,  ii.  135. 

Voltaic  chain,  iv.  25. 

Voyages  of  Columbus,  by  Navarette. 
See  Navarette. 

Voyages  of  the  Companions  of  Colum- 
bus. Ste  Columbus,  Voyages  of  tho 
Companions  of. 

Vromans,  Mrs.,  of  Indian  River,  i.  £4. 

W 

Wadman,  Widow.    Sec  Uncle  Toby. 
"Wad sworth,  Purser  of  the  U.  8.  vessel 
President,  i.  113. 


INDEX. 


449 


Wainwright,  Bishop  Jonathan  M.,  W. 

H.  Prescott  on,  iv.  233. 
Wales,  W.  I.'a  pedestrian  excursion  in, 

in  1817,  i.  368. 
Wallenstein,  castle  of,  ii.  155. 
Walsh,  Don  Miguel,  ii.  314. 
Walsh,  Mr.,  jr.,  ii.  415. 
Wa'sh,  Robert,  ii.  415. 
Walton  House,  New  York,  i.  19. 
Walton,  Isiac,  scenes  described  by,  i. 

354,  3  6  ;  humor  of,  iv.  31. 
Wanderburg,  iv.  183. 
Wanderer,  the,  by  Captain  Medwin,  ii. 

1S2,  183. 
Warwick  Castle,  ii.  466  ;  Leslie  sketches, 

57. 
Washington    City  partiaUy  burned  by 
the  British,  1814,  i.  311,  312  ;  W.  I. 
on  society  in,  in  1811,  262  ;  1832,  iii. 
45  ;  1838,  123  ,  1850,  iv.  90  ;  1853,  129. 
Washington,  George,  i.  133,  134  : 
administration  of,  iv.  195,  278. 
character  of,  iv.  146,  204,  208,  230,  232, 

250.  281,  292. 
clos  ng  days  of,  iv.  278. 
Fairfax,  Lord,  and,  iv.  164. 
Farewell  Address  of,  iv.  274. 
Irving,  Washington,  blessed  by,  i.  27  ; 

taken  for  a  kinsman  of,  133. 
manuscripts  of,  iv.  130. 
portraits  of,  by  Tuckerman,  iv.  28L 
Sketch  Bo  >k  ascribed  to,  i.  134. 
slavery,  opinion  of,  held  by,  iv.  297. 
William  of  Nassau  and,  iv.  247. 
Writings  of,  by  Sparks,  iv.  130,  145, 
146. 
Washington,  George,  Life  of,  suggested, 
ii.  238,  postponed,  374,  again  contem- 
plated, 424  ;  composition  and  publi- 
cat'o.i  of,  opinions  on,  etc.,  of  : 
Vol.  I.,  iii.  176,  224,  273,  277,  307  ;  iv. 
16,  31,  32,  35,  48,  64,  89,  102.  105,  122, 
126,  128,  129,  130,  147,    148,'   150-155, 
189,  193,  195,  198,  204. 
Vol.  II.,  iv.   195,  197,  193, 199,  203-209. 
Vol.  III.,  iv.  193,209,213. 
Vol.  IV.,  iv.  225,  226,  227,  223,  229-233. 
Vol.  V,  iv.  239,  244,  249,  250,  252-255, 
261,  267,  269,  270,  272,  274-276,    278, 
281-284,  288,  291-293,  297,  321,  322. 
Washington,  Mrs.  Oeorge,  slaves  of,  iv. 

297. 
Washington,  John   Augustine,   iv.  127, 

132. 
Washington,  Lieutenant,  ii.  371. 
Washington,  Mrs.,  sister  of  Mrs.  Madi- 
son, i.  263. 
Waterloo,  defeat  of  Bonaparte  at,  i.  330  ; 
exultation  of  the  English  at,  describ- 
ed by  W.  I.,  i.  331  ;  ii.  181. 
Waverley  Novels,  illustrations  of,  ii.  375. 
Webster,  Daniel,  opposes  the  confirma- 
tion of  Van   Buren,  ii.  480  ;  on  W. 
I.'s    appointment    as    Minister    to 
Spain,  iii.  176,  177,  178;  and  Lord 
Ashburton,  249  ;  his  Address  before 
the   New  York   Historical  Society, 
1S52,  iv.  103  ;  presides  at  the  Cooper 
meeting,  1S52,  103  ;  as  a  statesman, 


iii.  249,  250  ;  references  to,  ii.  480  ; 

iii.  185,  250,  251,  256,  384. 
Weekly  Museum,  W.  I.  contributes  to, 

i.  35. 
Weil,  Dr.  Gustave,  his  Mahommed,  iv. 

62. 
Weismuller,  Mr.,  iii.  289,  393. 
Weismuller,  Mrs.,  iii.,  289. 
Welles,  Mr.,  of  Paris,  ii:.  208. 
Wellington,  Duke  of,  i.  454  ;  ii.  432,  436  ; 

letter  of,  on  behalf  of  Wilkie,  276. 
Wells,  Mr.,  of  Boston,  in  Europe  inlS05, 

i.  129, 145. 
Wemyss,  Captain,  W.  I.  travels  with,  ii. 

102,  111,  117. 
Wesley,  John,  and  the  ghosts,  iv.  36. 
We.-t,  William  E  ,  the  artist,  ii.  228,  230, 

423  ;  on  Byron,  231  ;  his  likeness  of 

Byron,  iii.  167. 
West   Point  Military  Academy,  iii.  27, 

47  ;  iv.  294  ;  Charles  Ii.  Leslie  invited 

to,  iii.  47. 
Westerfield,  Mr.,  iv.  87. 
Western  scenery,  iii.  37. 
Westminster  Abbey,  W.  I.  resides  in, 

in  1842,  iii.  197. 
Westminster,  Marquis  of,  ii.  485. 
Westminster  Review  on  the  Tales  of  tho 

Alhambra,  iii.  20. 
"  What. 's  hallowed  ground?"  i.  250. 
Wheaton,   Henry,   Minister  to  Prussia, 

iii.  362  ;   his  History  of  the  North- 
men reviewed  by  W.  I.,  iii.  21. 
Whist,  iv.  310,  313,  325. 
Whitcomb,  Jonas,  his   Remedy  for  the 

asthma,  iv.  272. 
White  Plains,  battle  of,  iv.  197. 
White  Mountains,  iii.  28. 
Whitehall,  New  York,  iv.  107. 
Whitlock,  Mrs.,  appearance  of,  i.  159. 
Widow,  the,  and  her  Son,  iv.  47. 
Widow's  Ordeal,  the,  iv.  186. 
Wife,  the,  in  the  Sketch  Book,  iii.  341  ; 

iv.  46  ;  translated  into  French,  i.  452. 
Wilberforce,  William,  ii.  424. 
Wildman,  Colonel  and  Mrs.,   and  New 

stead  Abbey,  ii.  462,  467. 
Wiley,  John,  publisher,  ii.  73  ;  iv.  38. 
Wilkie,  Sir  David,  ii.  311,  314,  315,  365, 

374,  375,  438  : 
Alhambra,  Tales  of  the,  dedicated  to, 

iii.  21. 
Defence  of  Savagossa  by,  ii.  309,  310. 
Holy  Land  visited  by,  iii.  166. 
Irving  and,  ii.  269,  270. 
Irvi  ng  describes,  ii.  296,  314. 
Irving' s  portraits  by,  ii.  311,  312,  343  ; 

iv.  141, 143. 
John  Knox  preaching  by,  ii.  445. 
Kindness  of,  ii.  445. 
Madrid  visited  by,  ii.  269,  270,  276,  283, 

292,  295,  296. 
Newton  and,  ii.  59. 
Peel,  Sir  Robert,  and,  ii.  276. 
Seville  visited  by,  ii.  309. 
Wellington,  Duke  of,  and,  ii.  276. 
Wilkins,  Martin,  examines  students  for 

the  bar,  i.  173. 
Wilkinson,  General  James,  his  supposed 


450 


INDEX. 


complicity  in  Burr's  alleged  treason, 
i.  191,  192,  193  ,  at  Burr's  trial,  193, 
194, 195. 

William  IV.  described,  ii.  432  ;  pleased 
with  Mr.  McLane,  432,  443  ;  his  mes- 
sage to  President  Jackson,  444  ; 
conversation  of,  with  W.  I.,  457. 

William  of  Nassau  compared  with 
Washington,  iv.  247,  248. 

William,  of  Sunnyside,  iv.  136. 

William  street,  No.  131,  New  York, 
birthplace  of  W.  I.,  i.  21  ;  iv.  25. 

Williams,  Mrs.,  ii.  135. 

Williams,  Samuel,  failure  of,  ii.  242,  260  ; 
escapes  shipwreck,  iii.  269. 

Williams,  Sir  Thomas,  i.  355. 

Williamson,  Catherine,  grandmother  of 
W.  I.,i.  14. 

Willis,  Mr.,  the  painter,  ii.  28,  30. 

Willis,  Nathaniel  P.,  co-editor  of  New 
York  Mirror,  iii.  19  ;  W.  I.  visits,  at 
Idlewild,  in  1S54,  iv.  175  :  on  W.  I.'s 
reminiscences  of  Tom  Moore,  176  ; 
on  Martin's  portrait  of  W.  I.,  83  ; 
visits  Sunnyside  in  1859,  314  ;  on  W. 
I  ,  309,  315. 

Wilson,  Daniel,  Archaeological  and  Pre- 
historic Annals  of  Scotland,  i.  17. 

Wilson,  Dr.  Peter,  of  Columbia  College, 
his  respect  for  the  editor's  grand- 
father, i.  24. 

Wilson,  Thomas,  general  professor,  i. 
290. 

Wimbledon,  W.  I.  visits,  ii.  24  ;  reading 
in  bed  not  permitted  at,  83. 

Winchester,  Virginia,  iv.  164,  166. 

Wine  vintage  in  Germany,  ii.  105.  * 

Winters  in  New  York,  iii.  155. 

Winthrop,  Robert  C,  as  a  public  speak- 
er, iv.  182  ;  W.  I.'s  regard  for,  141. 
See  Letters. 

Wisbaden,  ii.  95. 

"Wise,  Lieutenant  A.,  iv.  314,  317. 

Wizard,  William,  of  Salmagundi,  i.  176, 
210. 

Wolfert  Webber,  story  of,  ii.  179, 190. 

Wolfert's  Roost,  iii.  204.    See  Sunnyside. 


Wolfert's  Roost,  publication  and  recep- 
tion of,  iii.  99,  n.,  402  ;  iv.  185-188  ; 
large  sale  of,  iii.  149. 

Woman's  R;ghts  Convention,  iv.  75. 

Women,  power  of,  their  attractions,  ii. 
275  ;  proper  education  of,  iv.  184. 

Wonder,  the,  played  in  Dresden,  ii.  142, 
147,  148. 

Woodhouse,  the  tower  of,  Robert  Bruco 
takes  refuge  in,  i.  15. 

World,  the,  coldness  and  heartlessnesa 
of,  ii.  275,  277  ;  pretty  much  what 
we  make  it,  333. 

World  Displayed  a  favorite  with  W.  I., 
i.  32. 

Wurtemberg,  King  of,  ii.  432. 

Wynn,  Purser  of  tho  U.  S.  vessel  Pres- 
ident, i.  113, 114. 


X 


Ximenes,  Mateo,  W.  I.'s  attendant  in 
tho  Alhambra,  ii.  383,  394. 


Yacht  vovage  by  Lord  Dufferin,  iv.  273. 

Year  in  Spain,  a.  A'ee  Slidell,  Lieuten- 
ant A.  S.,  iv.  312. 

Yonkers,  New  York,  iii.  246  ;  iv.  231, 
264. 

York,  Duke  of,  his  rapid  retreat,  i.  190. 

Yorkt'own,  siege  of,  iv.  227. 

Young,  the  actor,  Kean  on,  ii.  1S1  ;  W. 
I.  on,  i.  343. 

Young  America  on  its  travels,  iv.  259. 


Zittau,  Saxony,  scenery  near,  ii.  154. 
Zurbano,  General,  iii.  283,  286,  289. 
Zurbaran,  his  St.  Thomas,  ii.  311. 
Zurich,   W.   I.  in,  in  1805,  iv.  182  ;  Iii. 
375  ;  iv.  182. 


7\.X00°>.Ot>H  00616 


ff/f/f1f//f///#//f##/////#?^/f'^ 

lillli!!)!  >  *>>>>> 

i >'  wn  1 

> >■  )/>/)/> ))//) i //  '*     '  ///#y 

C  V  If''  *   ' 

Miiiiiffm  ii H 1 1 1 N  5  n  \  \  mu 

i  iji  if  if  i*  i  y  s  j  1 1 

\\  *\{\\\u\\\\i\  i '<  t'  i<  <  i -i \    '  i (tit 

lit  lilt 

•   ■  Jin  i '  ^  > i •» » 

\  \\\\\\xl\{\\\\  ' '  v  v  1  : '  <  lit f ft \ ft < 

Si    liii  /  if  MimfHflSffliifil  ■ 

>>iji>wl>ii»»V    ('  i  (' '    (ifiilfifv 

««  t  (if  II  fl  it  fill  I 

%  v5f  ' 

Slip— s 

iiiiiii^      1 1 

f  r  i  c  I Ic  ■  ■   f  i  /  i  /  1 

[  ((it  {' 

Bri 

i  iiiiri^ 

!((          {  j  ilf 

fill  ] 

ij  ,'())/# fjv##))J/i# /////)//}) )/  ■ '  ?! 

Mi     iilll 

r  ill  f  t 

1       (VV\\\  j  .'   \\\\\\\\\\\{\tV\\\\    \    1 

j|     Ill 

t  in  i  > 
fill  f 

. ', '  *.  l,  ',  i| ',  \  \  y  'V  jy  # 

r  ill!  / 

i        r ;  cc{|c€f|<ifcff<<{  '^'Jiv ' ' 

:!SS!!|i!i(|«! 

if  It  7 
till  V 

1  *  \  i ) '  i '' ' !'  y  1  ft  1 

f  1/J  f  - 

1 1'  2 1! .  { i  jj  '  S  ('  if  f  (  | 1 

1 V  VllHlKJt Wit          fill  f  '<  - '  '< '  --f •< !*  i  '< 

J < '' ' '  i  i ' '  ii  t!  '#!  'ii!  1 

L   ill  J    i 

*t  "til  fill  i  Iff  It       i  fffrff        'i  i  'c  '/  ! 

j    !  1 1  '; }}}  jj  J 

ill!  1 

!   (mill  iu«<  t   (<«t    \l\i\ 

i     ii}  it  j 

'l     (((tltC   i  itttt           if  lit   '  '        '■  '#    }//! 

Hffl 

flfllfiliiiififiiiiiiiiififiifi 

ifi/ifiiffiifiiifif